Tho I get home how late—how late by Emily Dickinson Lyrics

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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!