Essential Oils Are Wrung

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Title:     Essential Oils Are Wrung
Author: Emily Dickinson [More Titles by 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.

[The end]
Emily Dickinson's poem: Essential Oils Are Wrung

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