The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson


I felt a Cleaving in my Mind –
As if my Brain had split
I tried to match it – Seam by Seam –
But could not make them fit.

Come slowly – Eden!
Lips unused to Thee –
Bashful – sip thy Jessamines –
As the fainting Bee –

Reaching late his flower,
Round her chamber hums –
Counts his nectars –
Enters – and is lost in Balms.

The Pedigree of Honey
Does not concern the Bee –
A Clover, any time, to him,
Is Aristocracy –

The Gardens of Emily Dickinson by Judith Farr


“[Higginson] quickly learned that Dickinson’s desire in composing poems resembled that of a scrupulous gardener cultivating new plants: she wanted them to be vital, symmetrical, well-established, and likely to survive.”

“Todd called the manuscripts ‘fascicles,’ a nineteenth-century synonym for bunches of flowers”

“The extent to which gardening was honored among nineteenth-century creative artists is illustrated  by the fact that a distraught, impoverished, but flower-loving Edgar A. Poe regularly weeded the cramped grounds of his Fordham cottage–his only wholesome entertainment while is teenage wife Virginia lay dying.”

some interesting information I found in Farr’s The Gardens of Emily Dickinson