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891

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—begun to tell—
Creation seemed a mighty Crack—
To make me visible—

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 4 Sep 2026 12:37 AM | Viewed: 7418 times

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