Emily Dickinson's Garden of Poetry

The Purple Clover

There is a flower that bees prefer,

And butterflies desire;

To gain the purple democrat

The humming-birds aspire.

And whatsoever insect pass,

A honey bears away

Proportioned to his several dearth

And her capacity.

Her face is rounder than the moon,

And ruddier than the gown

Of orchis in the pasture,

Or rhododendron worn.

She doth not wait for June;

Before the world is green

Her sturdy little countenance

Against the wind is seen,

Contending with the grass,

Near kinsman to herself,

For privilege of sod and sun,

Sweet litigants for life.

And when the hills are full,

And newer fashions blow,

Doth not retract a single spice

For pang of jealousy.

Her public is the noon,

Her providence the sun,

Her progress by the bee proclaimed

In sovereign, swerveless tune.

The bravest of the host,

Surrendering the last,

Nor even of defeat aware

When cancelled by the frost.

      This poem is literally talking about the The Purple clover. The clover is used as a main source of nectar  for bees and grows among the grass. It is not defeated easily and when it is cut or moved over, it will continually spring back up, much like a dandelion.  In a symbolic way, this poem could be talking about a women, since she refers to the flower as a she. The clover could represent her beauty and then many men find her attractive. She is also very confident in how she looks and will not be put down when other girls come around, trying to out do her. Eventually, as the frost comes, the women will loose her beauty, perhaps because she got old, or maybe it was something more sudden like a scar or a burn.