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 -alights,
And is lost in balms!
Come Slowly
Emily Dickinson
(17)
Poem topics: flower, lost, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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Astra Atalune Wood: RIP, Emily.
Usman sani : I love the poem. It reminded me of those pleasant moments
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