As a twig trembles, which a bird
Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrilled and stirred;
I only know she came and went.
As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven,
The blue domes measureless content,
So my soul held that moments heaven;
I only know she came and went.
As, at one bound, our swift spring heaps
The orchards full of bloom and scent,
So clove her May my wintry sleeps;
I only know she came and went.
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is struck, the vision stays;
I only know she came and went.
Oh, when the room grows slowly dim,
And lifes last oil is nearly spent,
One gush of light these eyes will brim,
Only to think she came and went.
