THE GHOST

THE GHOST

One whom I loved and never can forgetReturned to me in dream, and spoke with me,As audibly, as sweet familiarlyAs though warm fingers twined warm fingers yet.Her eyes were bright and with great wonder wetAs in old days when some strange, swift decreeBrought touch-close love or death; and sorrow-freeShe spoke as one long purged of all regret.I heard, oh, glad beyond all speech, I heard,Till to my lips the flaming query flashed:How is it—over there?Then, quite undone,She trembled; in her deep eyes like a birdThe gladness fluttered, and as one abashedShe shook her head bewildered, and was gone.Scribner’sHermann Hagedorn

One whom I loved and never can forgetReturned to me in dream, and spoke with me,As audibly, as sweet familiarlyAs though warm fingers twined warm fingers yet.Her eyes were bright and with great wonder wetAs in old days when some strange, swift decreeBrought touch-close love or death; and sorrow-freeShe spoke as one long purged of all regret.I heard, oh, glad beyond all speech, I heard,Till to my lips the flaming query flashed:How is it—over there?Then, quite undone,She trembled; in her deep eyes like a birdThe gladness fluttered, and as one abashedShe shook her head bewildered, and was gone.Scribner’sHermann Hagedorn

One whom I loved and never can forgetReturned to me in dream, and spoke with me,As audibly, as sweet familiarlyAs though warm fingers twined warm fingers yet.Her eyes were bright and with great wonder wetAs in old days when some strange, swift decreeBrought touch-close love or death; and sorrow-freeShe spoke as one long purged of all regret.I heard, oh, glad beyond all speech, I heard,Till to my lips the flaming query flashed:How is it—over there?Then, quite undone,She trembled; in her deep eyes like a birdThe gladness fluttered, and as one abashedShe shook her head bewildered, and was gone.

One whom I loved and never can forget

Returned to me in dream, and spoke with me,

As audibly, as sweet familiarly

As though warm fingers twined warm fingers yet.

Her eyes were bright and with great wonder wet

As in old days when some strange, swift decree

Brought touch-close love or death; and sorrow-free

She spoke as one long purged of all regret.

I heard, oh, glad beyond all speech, I heard,

Till to my lips the flaming query flashed:

How is it—over there?Then, quite undone,

She trembled; in her deep eyes like a bird

The gladness fluttered, and as one abashed

She shook her head bewildered, and was gone.

Scribner’sHermann Hagedorn


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