Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
134 Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower, But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil Unties her yellow Bonnet Beneath the village door, Until the Bees, from Clover rows Their Hock, and Sherry, draw, Why, I will lend until just then, But not an hour more!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 12:40 AM | Viewed: 7719 times
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