Emily Dickinson Poems

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The Skies can't keep their secret!
They tell it to the Hills --
The Hills just tell the Orchards --
And they -- the Daffodils!

A Bird -- by chance -- that goes that way --
Soft overhears the whole --
If I should bribe the little Bird --
Who knows but she would tell?

I think I won't -- however --
It's finer -- not to know --
If Summer were an Axiom --
What sorcery had Snow?

So keep your secret -- Father!
I would not -- if I could,
Know what the Sapphire Fellows, do,
In your new-fashioned world!

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