The speaker is imagining the moment of finally arriving home, long after anyone has stopped expecting her. That late hour isn’t a source of dread—it’s exactly what makes the return so sweet. All the years of suffering, the “decades of Agony,” get distilled into one transporting instant when her family hears an unexpected knock in the dark. She pictures the fire, the stunned faces, the words they’ll exchange, and just thinking about it keeps her going through the long, empty stretch of absence. The mood is breathless and almost giddy, charged with emotion that hovers between pain and joy. There’s a strange comfort in knowing the lateness itself will heighten the ecstasy, turning neglect and longing into a reunion that feels like a sudden flare of light.
Tho' I get home how late -- how late — Summary
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!