It's all I can do to breathe in your presence.
And I know, no matter what you say,
That I am tied with ribbon and string
And found under some trees.
Perhaps I am trying too hard,
Or maybe unable to soften
The articulation of the words I wish to say---
Sing, rather, brilliantly to you
So that you will pass them on.
Perhaps I am timid
And it's public. It's public.