Come, come to bed. The shadows move about, And some one seems to overhear our talk. The fire is low; the candles flicker out; The ghosts of former tenants want to walk. Already they are shuffling through the gloom. I felt an old man touch my shoulder-blade; Once he was married here; they love this room, He and his woman and the child they made. Dead, dead, they are, yet some familiar sound, Creeping along the brink of happy life, Revives their memory from under ground— The farmer and his troublesome old wife. Let us be going: as we climb the stairs, They'll sit down in our warm half-empty chairs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...I HAVE SEEN THE SPRING' by SARA TEASDALE CONTENTMENT, AFTER THE MANNER OF HORACE by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY TO SIR HENRY GOODYERE by BEN JONSON RESIGNATION by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 15. RATHER DEEDS THAN WORDS by PHILIP AYRES SEPTEMBER by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 6. OF PATIENCE by WILLIAM BASSE |