If She Had Been the Mistletoe, by Emily Dickinson

If She Had Been the Mistletoe

If she had been the Mistletoe

And I had been the Rose—

How gay upon your table

My velvet life to close—

Since I am of the Druid,

And she is of the dew—

I’ll deck Tradition’s buttonhole—

And send the Rose to you.

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Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.

XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;

888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—

964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—

721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…

To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—

30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?

512 The Soul has Bandaged moments— When too appalled to stir— She feels some ghastly Fright com… And stop to look at her—

LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before

743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—

Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!

233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!

81 We should not mind so small a flow… Except it quiet bring Our little garden that we lost Back to the Lawn again.

Death sets a thing significant The eye had hurried by, Except a perished creature Entreat us tenderly To ponder little workmanships

251 Over the fence— Strawberries—grow— Over the fence— I could climb—if I tried, I know—