Daily Dickinson

I’ll clutch — and clutch –
Next — One — Might be the golden touch –
Could take it –
Diamonds — Wait –
I’m diving — just a little late –
But stars — go slow — for night –

I’ll string you — in fine Necklace –
Tiaras — make — of some –
Wear you on Hem –
Loop up a Countess — with you –
Make — a Diadem — and mend my old One –
Count — Hoard — then lose –
And doubt that you are mine –
To have the joy of feeling it — again –

I’ll show you at the Court –
Bear you — for Ornament
Where Women breathe –
That every sigh — may lift you
Just as high — as I –

And — when I die –
In meek array — display you –
Still to show — how rich I go –
Lest Skies impeach a wealth so wonderful –
And banish me –

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A precious — mouldering pleasure — ’tis –
To meet an Antique Book –
In just the Dress his Century wore –
A privilege — I think –

His venerable Hand to take –
And warming in our own –
A passage back — or two — to make –
To Times when he — was young –

His quaint opinions — to inspect –
His thought to ascertain
On Themes concern our mutual mind –
The Literature of Man –

What interested Scholars — most –
What Competitions ran –
When Plato — was a Certainty –
And Sophocles — a Man –

When Sappho — was a living Girl –
And Beatrice wore
The Gown that Dante — deified –
Facts Centuries before

He traverses — familiar –
As One should come to Town –
And tell you all your Dreams — were true –
He lived — where Dreams were born –

His presence is Enchantment –
You beg him not to go –
Old Volume shake their Vellum Heads
And tantalize — just so –

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make

I’ll clutch — and clutch –

A precious — mouldering pleasure — ’tis –

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