275 <br /> <br />Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! <br />Why, God, would be content <br />With but a fraction of the Life— <br />Poured thee, without a stint— <br />The whole of me—forever— <br />What more the Woman can, <br />Say quick, that I may dower thee <br />With last Delight I own! <br /> <br />It cannot be my Spirit— <br />For that was thine, before— <br />I ceded all of Dust I knew— <br />What Opulence the more <br />Had I—a freckled Maiden, <br />Whose farthest of Degree, <br />Was—that she might— <br />Some distant Heaven, <br />Dwell timidly, with thee! <br /> <br />Sift her, from Brow to Barefoot! <br />Strain till your last Surmise— <br />Drop, like a Tapestry, away, <br />Before the Fire's Eyes— <br />Winnow her finest fondness— <br />But hallow just the snow <br />Intact, in Everlasting flake— <br />Oh, Caviler, for you!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/doubt-me-my-dim-companion/
