Emily Dickinson Poems

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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!

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