Emily Dickinson
Till Death—is narrow Loving
907

Till Death—is narrow Loving
The scantest Heart extant
Will hold you till your privilege
Of Finiteness—be spent

But He whose loss procures you
Such Destitution that
Your Life too abject for itself
Thenceforward imitate

Until—Resemblance perfect
Yourself, for His pursuit
Delight of Nature—abdicate
Exhibit Love—somewhat