Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Essential Oils Are Wrung: by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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Essential Oils Are Wrung:

    By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson



    Essential oils are wrung:
    The attar from the rose
    Is not expressed by suns alone,
    It is the gift of screws.

    The general rose decays;
    But this, in lady's drawer,
    Makes summer when the lady lies
    In ceaseless rosemary.


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