A Murmur In The Trees To Note, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 A murmur in the trees to note,
    Not loud enough for wind;
    A star not far enough to seek,
    Nor near enough to find;

    A long, long yellow on the lawn,
    A hubbub as of feet;
    Not audible, as ours to us,
    But dapperer, more sweet;

    A hurrying home of little men
    To houses unperceived, —
    All this, and more, if I should tell,
    Would never be believed.

    Of robins in the trundle bed
    How many I espy
    Whose nightgowns could not hide the wings,
    Although I heard them try!

    But then I promised ne’er to tell;
    How could I break my word?
    So go your way and I’ll go mine, —
    No fear you’ll miss the road.