Emily Dickinson

Perhaps You’D Like To Buy A Flower

poem 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!

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