Read the poem: “The Oriole’s Secret”

by Emily Dickinson

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To hear an oriole sing

May be a common thing,

Or only a divine.

It is not of the bird

Who sings the same, unheard,

As unto crowd.

The fashion of the ear

Attireth that it hear

In dun or fair.

So whether it be rune,

Or whether it be none,

Is of within;

The “tune is in the tree,”

The sceptic showeth me;

“No, sir! In thee!”

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