50

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-