Emily Dickinson

I Never Told The Buried Gold

poem 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!

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