Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.
Part Three: LoveXXXIV
W
What if I burst the fleshly gate
And pass, escaped, to thee?
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me,—that ’s enough,—
And wade in liberty?
Dungeons may call, and guns implore;
Unmeaning now, to me,
As laughter was an hour ago,
Or laces, or a travelling show,
Or who died yesterday!