Essential Oils-are Wrung

Emily Dickinson

675

Essential Oils—are wrung—
The Attar from the Rose
Be not expressed by Suns—alone—
It is the gift of Screws—

The General Rose—decay—
But this—in Lady’s Drawer
Make Summer—When the Lady lie
In Ceaseless Rosemary—

Next 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Estranged From Beauty-none Can Be-
• Emily Dickinson : Except The Heaven Had Come So Near
• Emily Dickinson : Except The Smaller Size
• Emily Dickinson : Except To Heaven, She Is Nought
• Emily Dickinson : Exhilaration Is The Breeze
• Emily Dickinson : Exhilaration-is Within
• Emily Dickinson : Expanse Cannot Be Lost-
• Emily Dickinson : Expectation-is Contentment
• Emily Dickinson : Experience Is The Angled Road
• Emily Dickinson : Experiment Escorts Us Last-

Previous 10 Poems

• Emily Dickinson : Escaping Backward To Perceive
• Emily Dickinson : Escape Is Such A Thankful Word
• Emily Dickinson : Endow The Living-with The Tears
• Emily Dickinson : Ended, Ere It Begun-
• Emily Dickinson : Endanger It, And The Demand
• Emily Dickinson : Empty My Heart, Of Thee
• Emily Dickinson : Embarrassment Of One Another
• Emily Dickinson : Elysium Is As Far As To
• Emily Dickinson : Elizabeth Told Essex
• Emily Dickinson : Elijah's Wagon Knew No Thill