So Bashful When I Spied Her!
E
Emily Dickinson
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So bashful when I spied her!
So pretty—so ashamed!
So hidden in her leaflets
Lest anybody find—
So breathless till I passed here—
So helpless when I turned
And bore her struggling, blushing,
Her simple haunts beyond!
For whom I robbed the Dingle—
For whom I betrayed the Dell—
Many, will doubtless ask me,
But I shall never tell!
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