by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)
I did not reach thee, but my feet
Language: English
I did not reach thee, but my feet Slip nearer every day, Three rivers and a hill to cross, One desert and a sea; I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee. Two deserts, but the year is cold, So that will help the sand; One desert crossed, the second one Will feel as cool as land. Sahara is too little price To pay for they right hand. The sea comes last. Step merry, feet, So short we have to go, To play together we are prone, But we must labor now; The last shall be the lightest load That we have had to draw. The sun goes crooked. That is night, Before he makes the bend. We must have passed the middle sea. Almost we wish the end Were further off; Too great it seems So near the whole to stand. We step like plush, We stand like snow, The waters murmur new. Three rivers and the hill are passed, Two deserts and the sea! Now death usurps my premium, And gets the look at thee.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886), no title [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Gordon Getty (b. 1933), "I did not reach thee" [soprano and piano], from The White Election - A Song Cycle for soprano and piano on 32 poems of Emily Dickinson, Part 4 : My Feet Slip Nearer, no. 26. [text verified 1 time]
Researcher for this page: Barbara Miller
This text was added to the website: 2011-01-12
Line count: 33
Word count: 181