| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 346. She Came and Went |
| | | By James Russell Lowell |
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| 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. | |
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| As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven, | 5 |
| The blue dome’s measureless content, | |
| So my soul held that moment’s heaven;— | |
| I only know she came and went. | |
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| As, at one bound, our swift spring heaps | |
| The orchards full of bloom and scent, | 10 |
| So clove her May my wintry sleeps;— | |
| I only know she came and went. | |
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| An angel stood and met my gaze, | |
| Through the low doorway of my tent; | |
| The tent is struck, the vision stays;— | 15 |
| I only know she came and went. | |
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| Oh, when the room grows slowly dim, | |
| And life’s last oil is nearly spent, | |
| One gush of light these eyes will brim, | |
| Only to think she came and went. | 20 |
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