What if I Say
What if I burst the fleshly gate
And pass, escaped, to thee?
What if I file this mortal off,
See where it hurt me, - that’s enough, -
And wade in liberty?
They cannot take me any more, -
Dungeons may call, and guns implore;
Unmeaning, now, to me
As laughter was an hour ago,
Or laces, or a traveling show,
Or who died yesterday!
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson (1830 – 1886)
