91
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!
Emily Dickinson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-bashful-when-i-spied-her/
