How like her! But ’tis she herself,
Comes up the crowded street,
How little did I think, the morn,
My only love to meet!
Whose else that motion and that mien?
Whose else that airy tread?
For one strange moment I forgot
My only love was dead.
(Amy Levy)
More Poetry from Amy Levy:
Amy Levy Poems based on Topics: Love- Xantippe(A Fragment) (Amy Levy Poems)
- To Lallie (Outside the British Museum.) (Amy Levy Poems)
- A Ballad Of Religion And Marriage (Amy Levy Poems)
- Alma Mater (Amy Levy Poems)
- A Game of Lawn Tennis (Amy Levy Poems)
- Epitaph (On a Commonplace Person Who Died in Bed) (Amy Levy Poems)