Dickinson reaches for a handful of gentle comparisons to describe a joy that arrives completely unbidden. She imagines flowers hearing rumors of dew but never thinking the moisture is meant for their lowly faces, or bees dismissing talk of summer as some kind of delirium because they can’t believe in warmth made for them. Arctic creatures catch a faint, exotic hint from a passing bird and are dimly stirred. Even the wind’s bright signal makes a homely, severe contentment known before the real surprise hits. All of these lead up to the final, startling claim: heaven comes unexpected to those who always thought worship was too bold, too presumptuous a prayer. The mood is hushed and wondering—a quiet astonishment that the grandest gift would stoop to the least expecting.
Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews, — Summary
Like Flowers, that heard the news of Dews, But never deemed the dripping prize Awaited their -- low Brows -- Or Bees -- that thought the Summer's name Some rumor of Delirium, No Summer -- could -- for Them --
Or Arctic Creatures, dimly stirred -- By Tropic Hint -- some Travelled Bird Imported to the Wood --
Or Wind's bright signal to the Ear -- Making that homely, and severe, Contented, known, before --
The Heaven -- unexpected come, To Lives that thought the Worshipping A too presumptuous Psalm --