Emily Dickinson — I meant to find Her when I came

718 I meant to find Her when I came Death—had the same design But the Success—was His—it seems And the Surrender—Mine I meant to tell Her how I longed For just this single time But Death had told Her so the first And she had past, with Him To wander—now—is my Repose To rest—To rest would be A privilege of Hurricane To Memory—and Me