648 <br /> <br />Promise This—When You be Dying— <br />Some shall summon Me— <br />Mine belong Your latest Sighing— <br />Mine—to Belt Your Eye— <br /> <br />Not with Coins—though they be Minted <br />From an Emperor's Hand— <br />Be my lips—the only Buckle <br />Your low Eyes—demand— <br /> <br />Mine to stay—when all have wandered— <br />To devise once more <br />If the Life be too surrendered— <br />Life of Mine—restore— <br /> <br />Poured like this—My Whole Libation— <br />Just that You should see <br />Bliss of Death—Life's Bliss extol thro' <br />Imitating You— <br /> <br />Mine—to guard Your Narrow Precinct— <br />To seduce the Sun <br />Longest on Your South, to linger, <br />Largest Dews of Morn <br /> <br />To demand, in Your low favor <br />Lest the Jealous Grass <br />Greener lean—Or fonder cluster <br />Round some other face— <br /> <br />Mine to supplicate Madonna— <br />If Madonna be <br />Could behold so far a Creature— <br />Christ—omitted—Me— <br /> <br />Just to follow Your dear future— <br />Ne'er so far behind— <br />For My Heaven— <br />Had I not been <br />Most enough—denied?<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/promise-this-when-you-be-dying/
