SHE saw him once in the street
On a fair sweet mild March day,
And her heart began to beat
Or ever her mind could say:
"It is he at last - we shall meet."

But he passed her by unaware
Of her presence. "Well, well," thought she,
"I shall not trouble nor care
For a man who cares nothing for me.
There are men enough and to spare."

Yet she wondered: "How is he able
To leave his office at noon?
Is some lovely being in pearls and sable
Waiting his coming soon
At a screened and shaded table?"