MY GHOSTS.
When dark days come, and winds are charged with sleet,
And strong men shiver with cold as if with fear,
Then will I ponder by my bright fire here
On things gone by, — half drowsing seem to meet
Fair, gracious comers, who the silence cheat;
And, as the twilight gathers, seem to hear
About the room, and near me and more near,
Soft stir of robes and fall of phantom feet.
But now, to-day, to-day, when it is Spring,
And larks are almost mad with their delight,
Shall I not go where I can hear them sing,
And send my spirit following on their flight? —
Though still within mine ear old tones shall ring,
And from Spring woods ghosts steal upon my sight.
