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Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

A Sigh

By Harriet Prescott Spofford (1835–1921)

[From Poems. 1882.]

IT was nothing but a rose I gave her,—

Nothing but a rose

Any wind might rob of half its savor,

Any wind that blows.

When she took it from my trembling fingers

With a hand as chill,—

Ah, the flying touch upon them lingers,

Stays, and thrills them still!

Withered, faded, pressed between the pages,

Crumpled fold on fold,—

Once it lay upon her breast, and ages

Cannot make it old!