II. Love: VII.
by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights! Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port,–
Done with the compass,
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden!
Ah! the sea!
Might I but moor
To-night in thee!
You can find this in the collection Hope is the Thing With Feathers.
Life of Kim 
This year I found the complete poems of her, second hand. An old book.
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That sounds like a treasure!
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Yeah it is.
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