My River runs to thee—
Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me?
My River wait reply—
Oh Sea—look graciously—
I'll fetch thee Brooks
From spotted nooks—
Say—Sea—Take Me!
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
- We Can But Follow To The Sun
- The Spider Holds A Silver Ball
- The Wind Tapped Like A Tired Man,
- To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave