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. Contrast
2. Ventures
3. Philosophy
4. This Merit Hath the Worst
5. Disenchantment

Print

1753 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version