Two Unlamented
Be not afraid. There can be no ghosts here.
There are no ghosts where love has never been.
Lift the latch boldly, firmly, and go in.
Dust will companion you, but have no fear
Of shadowy hands on yours, of eyes that peer
Shyly from long-shut casements, of the thin,
Far tinkle of a ghostly mandolin
Chording the ghostly tunes of yesteryear.
No ghosts are here. No furtive shade survives
Two who were dust before their years were done,
Too pale of blood for saintliness or sin.
They lie in graves as narrow as their lives,
One with the mire, who never before were one.
There are no ghosts where love has never been.
There are no ghosts where love has never been.
Lift the latch boldly, firmly, and go in.
Dust will companion you, but have no fear
Of shadowy hands on yours, of eyes that peer
Shyly from long-shut casements, of the thin,
Far tinkle of a ghostly mandolin
Chording the ghostly tunes of yesteryear.
No ghosts are here. No furtive shade survives
Two who were dust before their years were done,
Too pale of blood for saintliness or sin.
They lie in graves as narrow as their lives,
One with the mire, who never before were one.
There are no ghosts where love has never been.
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