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Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||
113
[X. To my quick ear the leaves conferred]
To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
The bushes they were bells;
I could not find a privacy
From Nature's sentinels.
The bushes they were bells;
I could not find a privacy
From Nature's sentinels.
In cave if I presumed to hide,
The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
To make me visible.
The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
To make me visible.
Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||