A Bee His Burnished Carriage
Emily Dickinson
1339 A Bee his burnished Carriage Drove boldly to a Rose— Combinedly alighting— Himself—his Carriage was— The Rose received his visit With frank tranquillity Withholding not a Crescent To his Cupidity— Their Moment consummated— Remained for him—to flee— Remained for her—of rapture But the humility.
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