To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
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.
To My Quick Ear The Leaves Conferred;
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: nature, hide, visible, privacy, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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