Emily Dickinson Poem

A Bee his burnished Carriage

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A Bee his burnished Carriage
Drove boldly to a Rose —
Combinedly alighting —
Himself — his Carriage was —
The Rose received his visit
With frank tranquillity
Withholding not a Crescent
To his Cupidity —
Their Moment consummated —
Remained for him — to flee —
Remained for her — of rapture
But the humility.

A Cap of Lead across the sky
Whose are the little beds, I asked

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