Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Part Three: LoveXIII
T
Entirely for me;
I thought that such were for the saints,
Where revelations be.
The flowers, accustomed, blew,
As if no sail the solstice passed
That maketh all things new.
The symbol of a word
Was needless, as at sacrament
The wardrobe of our Lord.
Permitted to commune this time,
Lest we too awkward show
At supper of the Lamb.
Clutched tight by greedy hands;
So faces on two decks look back,
Bound to opposing lands.
Without external sound,
Each bound the other’s crucifix,
We gave no other bond.
Deposed, at length, the grave—
To that new marriage, justified
Through Calvaries of Love!