Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Apotheosis

Come slowly, Eden!
Lips unused to thee,
Bashful, sip thy jasmines,
As the fainting bee,

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums,
Counts his nectars -- enters,
And is lost in balms!

1. Is Bliss, Then, Such Abyss
2. Childish Griefs
3. What Soft, Cherubic Creatures
4. Desire
5. Power

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