Essential oils are wrung:
The attar from the rose
Is not expressed by suns alone,
It is the gift of screws.

The general rose decays;
But this, in lady's drawer,
Makes summer when the lady lies
In ceaseless rosemary.

(C) Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
03/10/2020


Best Poems of Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

• Dreams.
• Forbidden Fruit. Ii.
• The First Lesson.
• Remorse.
• The Way I Read A Letters This:
• In The Garden.
• The Grave My Little Cottage Is,
• Portraits Are To Daily Faces
• Theres Been A Death In The Opposite House
• Morns Like These We Parted;
• "is Heaven A Physician?"
• My Rose.
• "new Feet Within My Garden Go,"
• The Sleeping Flowers.
• Why?
• The Balloon.
• Trying To Forget.
• The Moon.
• Bless God, He Went As Soldiers,
• Out Of The Morning.
• Dying.