Emily Dickinson - Again — his voice is at the door lyrics

663 Again — his voice is at the door I feel the old Degree I hear him ask the servant For such an one — as me I take a flower — as I go My face to justify He never saw me — in this life I might surprise his eye! I cross the Hall with mingled steps I — silent — pa** the door I look on all this world contains Just his face — nothing more! We talk in careless—and it toss A kind of plummet strain Each — sounding — shyly Just — how — deep The other's one — had been We walk — I leave my Dog — at home A tender — thoughtful Moon Goes with us — just a little way And — then — we are alone Alone — if Angels are "alone" First time they try the sky! Alone — if those "veiled faces" — be We cannot count — on High! I'd give — to live that hour — again The purple — in my Vein But He must count the drops — himself My price for every stain!