Emily Dickinson
So bashful
So bashful when I spied her
So pretty, so ashamed!
So hidden in her leaflets
Lest anybody find;

So breathless till I passed her
So helpless when I turned
And bore her, struggling, blushing
Her simple haunts beyond!

For whom I robbed the dingle
For whom betrayed the dell
Many will doubtless ask me
But I shall never tell!