I Have Not Told My Garden Yet, By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

 I have not told my garden yet,
    Lest that should conquer me;
    I have not quite the strength now
    To break it to the bee.

    I will not name it in the street,
    For shops would stare, that I,
    So shy, so very 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 to-day!