Oct 312013
 

The phantom lover of Forepaugh’s

Midnight comes and dims the mind,
The room composed and dark;
Wind in the curtain my soul unwinds
Until my thoughts are black.
     Bell, book, and a candle-end.

I watch myself and look at her,
Her book but dust and polaroids;
What ghostly bell is that I hear
Echoes from the window-void?      
     Bell, book, and a candle-end.

A ghost sings in the lattice,
And a cricket sings in the hedge;
They sing away what matters
Till soul and mind grind edge.
     Bell, book, and a candle-end.

She had loved me lovely
When she had loved me once
(Oh, all those cold years ago)
Who now my midnight haunts. 
     Bell, book, and a candle-end.

I speak her name and fear for sleep:
A ghost is in the lattice;
The dark is dreary and the mind is deep:
I sing away what matters.
     Bell, book, and a candle-end.

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