Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize. He stood as near As stood you here— A pace had been between— Did but a snake bisect the brake My life had forfeit been. That was a wondrous booty— I hope 'twas honest gained. Those were the fairest ingots That ever kissed the spade! Whether to keep the secret— Whether to reveal— Whether as I ponder Kidd will sudden sail— Could a shrewd advise me We might e'en divide— Should a shrewd betray me— Atropos decide!
Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 25 Mar 2017 3:43 PM | Viewed: 7227 times
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