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...CONTRA MORTEM: THE STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH CAMOMILE TEA by KATHERINE MANSFIELD THE CHANT OF THE VULTURES by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: PAULINE BARRETT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A MILLION YOUNG WORKMEN, 1915 by CARL SANDBURG THE GREAT HUNT by CARL SANDBURG |