"So Bashful When I Spied Her,"

A poem by Emily Dickinson

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!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of '"So Bashful When I Spied Her,"' by Emily Dickinson

comments powered by Disqus