Explore "The Sleeping Flowers" by Emily Dickinson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Whose are the little beds," I asked, / "Which in the valleys lie?"
Some shook their heads, and others smiled, / And no one made reply.
"Perhaps they did not hear," I said; / "I will inquire again.
Whose are the beds, the tiny beds / So thick upon the plain?"
"T is daisy in the shortest; / A little farther on, / Nearest the door to wake the first, / Little leontodon.
"T is iris, sir, and aster, / Anemone and bell, / Batschia in the blanket red, / And chubby daffodil."
Meanwhile at many cradles / Her busy foot she plied, / Humming the quaintest lullaby / That ever rocked a child.
"Hush! Epigea wakens! -- / The crocus stirs her lids, / Rhodora's cheek is crimson, -- / She's dreaming of the woods."
Then, turning from them, reverent, / "Their bed-time 't is," she said; / "The bumble-bees will wake them / When April woods are red. "