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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: 11 Oct 2008 10:37 PM | Viewed: 4879 times

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