Emily Dickinson (1830–86).  Complete Poems.  1924.

Part Three: Love

VI

IF you were coming in the fall,
I ’d brush the summer by
With half a smile and half a spurn,
As housewives do a fly.
  
If I could see you in a year,         
I ’d wind the months in *****,
And put them each in separate drawers,
Until their time befalls.
  
If only centuries delayed,
I ’d count them on my hand,         
Subtracting till my fingers dropped
Into Van Diemen’s land.
  
If certain, when this life was out,
That yours and mine should be,
I ’d toss it yonder like a rind,         
And taste eternity.
  
But now, all ignorant of the length
Of time’s uncertain wing,
It goads me, like the goblin bee,
That will not state its sting.