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.

~WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS