Just before you came,
There stole into the air
A thought without a name.


Such a pretty thought!
Shy, and faint, and fair,-
I wish I could have caught


It when it came,
And brought it unto you;
You would have found its name!


But when I turned, and would
Have gathered it for you,
And clasped it where it stood,


It shook me out a pair
Of unseen little wings,
And vanished in the air.


Do you like to hear
Such foolish little things?
Ah, truly,-tell me, dear!

More verses by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward