Poem by Emily Elizabeth 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!

1. A Poor Torn Heart, a Tattered Heart
2. The Show
3. A Thought Went up My Mind To-day
4. Too Much
5. Delight Becomes Pictorial

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