Poe et here

LIGHTLY

Lightly did she stand before me
Lightly come, and lightly gone.
Her presence like a wisp of willow
A faint breeze brushing my mind
So fleeting I couldn’t catch her
So pure I dared not touch her—
A scent and laughter,
Breath of gaiety, hinting jubilee
Summer’s cloud given form
Only by thought caresses.
I yearned for her to stay.
Other places beckoned her.
She was lightly come, and lightly gone.
Here I wait on her tomorrow—