675 <br /> <br />Essential Oils—are wrung— <br />The Attar from the Rose <br />Be not expressed by Suns—alone— <br />It is the gift of Screws— <br /> <br />The General Rose—decay— <br />But this—in Lady's Drawer <br />Make Summer—When the Lady lie <br />In Ceaseless Rosemary—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/essential-oils-are-wrung/
