I haven't told my garden yet —
Lest that should conquer me.
I haven't quite the strength now
To break it to the Bee —
I will not name it in the street
For shops would stare at me —
That one so shy — so ignorant
Should have the face to die.
The hillsides must not know it —
Where I have rambled so —
Nor tell the loving forests
The day that I shall go —
Nor lisp it at the table —
Nor heedless by the way
Hint that within the Riddle
One will walk today —