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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 2, Poema 19
XVIII.
APOTHEOSIS.
Come
slowly,
Eden!
Lips
not
used
to
you,
Shy,
sip
your
flowers,
As
the
tired
bee,
Reaching
late
his
flower,
Around
her
room
hums,
Counts
his
nectar
—
enters,
And
is
lost
in
sweetness!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana
Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A2 Inglés | Cuentana