Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1385 "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— Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 24 Mar 2017 8:00 AM | Viewed: 20874 times
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