W. B. Yeats

To an Isle in the Water

Shy 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.
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