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 I betrayed the dell,
Many will doubtless ask me,
But I shall never tell! -Emily Dickinson