Out of the countless teeming throng Of women sweetly fair Is one, just one alone, who stands Undimmed and shining there. There may have been no lover's tryst No touch of pulsing hand But there are surges in the soul The heart may understand. Perhaps you saw her in the rush Of by-gone yesterday ... In each man's life one woman is A haunting memory. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 7. MADAME MOUSE TROTS by EDITH SITWELL CHIQUITA by FRANCIS BRET HARTE VERSES FOR CHILDREN: MAPLE TREE by ZEDA K. AILES ON LYDIA DISTRACTED; A SONNET by PHILIP AYRES THE SUCCESSOR by WILLIAM ROSE BENET MY GARDEN OF FRIENDS by NETTIE STEPHENSON BOWEN |