Who Was It Swept Against My Door
By Richard Le Gallienne
Who was it swept against my door just now,
With rustling robes like Autumn's - was it thou?
Ah! would it were thy gown against my door -
Only thy gown once more.
Sometimes the snow, sometimes the fluttering breath
Of April, as toward May she wandereth,
Make me a moment think that it is thou -
But yet it is not thou!