Tho' I get home how late -- how late

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Tho' I get home how late -- how late --
So I get home - 'twill compensate --
Better will be the Ecstasy
That they have done expecting me --
When Night -- descending -- dumb -- and dark --
They hear my unexpected knock --
Transporting must the moment be --
Brewed from decades of Agony!

To think just how the fire will burn --
Just how long-cheated eyes will turn --
To wonder what myself will say,
And what itself, will say to me --
Beguiles the Centuries of way!

© Emily Dickinson