Emily Dickinson Poems

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"Secrets" is a daily word
Yet does not exist --
Muffled -- it remits surmise --
Murmured -- it has ceased --
Dungeoned in the Human Breast
Doubtless secrets lie --
But that Grate inviolate --
Goes nor comes away
Nothing with a Tongue or Ear --
Secrets stapled there
Will emerge but once -- and dumb --
To the Sepulchre --

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