Perhaps you'd like to buy a flower?
But I could never sell.
If you would like to borrow
Until the daffodil
Unties her yellow bonnet
Beneath the village door,
Until the bees, from clover rows
Their hock and sherry draw,
Why, I will lend until just then,
But not an hour more!
This is a whimsical poem by Emily Dickenson. I personally think it means that she’ll let you borrow her time until the spring or fall, or perhaps longer if necessary, but never any longer. It also seems as though this poem talks of death. Emily Dickenson talks of “not an hour more!” She’s basically saying that she only has an hour or so, like the flowers, is all she really has left.