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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!

Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 4:29 PM | Viewed: 7936 times

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