Lost in Balms

Come slowly—Eden
Lips unused to Thee—

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Bashful—sip thy Jessamines
As the fainting Bee—

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Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums—
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Counts his nectars—
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Enters—and is lost in Balms.
-- Emily Dickinson

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Comments

  1. This post is intoxicating! It's the first thing I read today and the rest of my day will be the more magical because of it.

    ReplyDelete

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