Author Emily Dickinson 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 began to tell; Creation seemed a mighty crack To make me visible. 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