Author Emily Dickinson 41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses My fantasy to please. I scanned their trinkets curious—I grasped—I bore away— What will the solemn Hemlock— What will the Oak tree say? Tags tree trust Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments