What if I say I shall not wait? 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 Dickinson
