Emily Dickinson

If I Could Bribe Them By A Rose

poem 179

If I could bribe them by a Rose I’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 would linger for a Bird My Tambourin 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 say That such an importunity May not at last avail? That, weary of this Beggar’s face They may not finally say, Yes To drive her from the Hall?

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