THE GHOST

THE GHOST

On the first days of winter slow decay

I went to an old and forgotten wood

And long there I walked and long there I stood

'Till someday I saw her ghost on the way.

The pale and young crying ancient ghost

Of the pretty maiden I once had lost.

Sitting on the rock we used to sit on

And long there we'd kissed and long there we'd stood

On that eternal stone nearby the wood

Many years ago, before she were gone.

Enven through Death and Time's hardest sorrows

Still was her ghost the purest light to glow.

She had the same eyes she wore long before.

Oh ! These two perfect stars thereby the wood

And long there I sank and long there I stood

Untill the day she'd crossed the distant shores.

By now I remain sitting on the rock

On which we had our lives and love locked.

« There will I wait for the Death's hand to hold

Like another ghost standing by the wood. »

And long there I starved and long there I stood

On the last murmurs of winter soft cold.

There am I dead, I, forgotten and blissed

For the love I once had and always missed.