HY one, shy one,

Shy one of my heart,

She moves in the firelight

Pensively apart.

 

She carries in the dishes,

And lays them in a row.

To an isle in the water

With her would I go.

 

She carries in the candles,

And lights the curtained room,

Shy in the doorway

And shy in the gloom;

 

And shy as a rabbit,

Helpful and shy.

To an isle in the water

With her would I fly. 

 

William Butler Yeats