 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
160
XXXVIII.
WITH FLOWERS.
South winds jostle them,
Bumblebees come,
Hover, hesitate,
Drink, and are gone.
Bumblebees come,
Hover, hesitate,
Drink, and are gone.
Butterflies pause
On their passage Cashmere;
I, softly plucking,
Present them here!
On their passage Cashmere;
I, softly plucking,
Present them here!
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |