Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Transplanted

As if some little Arctic flower
Upon the polar hem -
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer -
To firmaments of sun -
To strange, bright crowds of flowers -
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower
To Eden, wandered in -
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!

1. This Merit Hath the Worst
2. Contrast
3. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized
4. In Lands I Never Saw, They Say
5. He Put the Belt around My Life

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