The Meeting

By Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

SHE flitted by me on the stair —

A moment since I knew not of her.

A look, a smile — she passed! but where

She flitted by me on the stair

Joy cradled exquisite despair;

For who am I that I should love her?

She flitted by me on the stair —

A moment since I knew not of her!