Has any one found a dream?
It was lost I know not where―
And alas! I know not how―
So dear, so sweet, so fair!
I have sought for it in vain,
Yea, weeks and months and years;
Eager one day with hope―
The next, bowed down with tears.
God made it―no one else.
Not one on earth could make
A thing so dear its loss
A woman’s heart could break.
Has any one found it? Speak.
It was white as the whitest dove.
All else is offered for it!
Its name, I think, was―Love.
“Lost” as it appears in Higginson’s When the Birds Go North Again (1898).