Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - third series (1896).djvu/196

 1 82 POEMS.

��XLIV.

T F I may have it when it 's dead If just as soon as breath is out It shall belong to me,
 * I will contented be ;

Until they lock it in the grave,

'T is bliss I cannot weigh, For though they lock thee in the grave,

Myself can hold the key.

Think of it, lover ! I and thee Permitted face to face to be ;

After a life, a death we '11 say, For death was that, and this is thee.

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