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1835–1905

OPPORTUNITY.

Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

BUT yesterday, but yesterday, She stood beside our dusty way, Outreaching for one moment’ s space The key to fortune’ s hiding-place.

With wistful meanings in her eyes, Her radiance veiled in dull disguise, A moment paused, then turned and fled, Bearing her message still unsaid.

And we? Our eyes were on the dust; Still faring on as fare all must In the hot glare of midday sun Until the weary way be done.

So, fast and far she sped and flew Into the depths of ether blue; And we, too late, make bitter cry, “Come back, dear Opportunity!”

In vain: the fleet, unpausing wings Stay not in their bright journeyings; And sadly sweet as funeral bell The answer drops, “Farewell! Farewell!”

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OPPORTUNITY. · Sarah Chauncey Woolsey · Poetry Cove