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.
Essential Oils Are Wrung:
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: alone, summer, essential, gift, rose, lady, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
About Essential Oils Are Wrung:
Essential Oils Are Wrung: is a poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
Write your comment about Essential Oils Are Wrung: poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Best Poems of Emily Elizabeth Dickinson