The Poems of Emily Dickinson, Variorum Edition, Franklin, 1998
Emily Dickinson Archive
If I could bribe them by a RoseI'd bring them every flower that grows From Amherst to Cashmere! I would not stop for night, or storm - Or frost, or death, or anyone -My business were so dear! If they w'd linger for a Bird My Tamborin were soonest heard Among the April Woods! Unwearied, all the summer long,Only to break in wilder song When Winter shook the boughs! What if they hear me! Who shall sayThat such an importunityMay not at last avail? That, weary of this Beggar's face - They may not finally say, Yes - To drive her from the Hall?