A poem by Emily Dickinson

Come slowly, Eden!
Lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -- enters,
And is lost in balms!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Apotheosis.' by Emily Dickinson

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy