GHOST.

O fair frail sin,

O poor harvest gathered in!

Thou shalt visit him again

To watch his heart grow cold;

To know the gnawing pain

I knew of old;

To see one much more fair

Fill up the vacant chair,

Fill his heart, his children bear:--

While thou and I together

In the outcast weather

Toss and howl and spin.

Poems(#19188) · 第 45 / 248 题