stifled subversion

"But they cannot see me. I am on the other side of the hedge. There are only little eye-holes among the leafs. Oh Lord, let them pass. Lord, let them lay their butterflies on a pocket-handkerchief on the gravel. Let them count out their tortoise-shells, their red admirals and cabbage whites. But let me be unseen. I am green as the yew tree in the shade of the hedge. My hair is made of leaves. I am rooted to the middle of the earth."
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