The Ghost’s Petition
‘There’s a footstep coming: look out and see,’‘The leaves are falling, the wind is calling;No one cometh across the lea.’—
‘There’s a footstep coming; O sister, look.’—‘The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes;No one cometh across the brook.’—
‘But he promised that he would come:To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow,He must keep his word, and must come home.
‘For he promised that he would come: 10 His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home.
‘Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane;You can slumber, who need not numberHour after hour, in doubt and pain.
‘I shall sit here awhile, and watch;Listening, hoping, for one hand gropingIn deep shadow to find the latch.’
After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, 20 Who had watched and wept the weary night.
After the night, and before the day,One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping—Watching, weeping for one away.
There came a footstep climbing the stair;Some one standing out on the landingShook the door like a puff of air—
Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast. 30
‘O Robin, but you are cold—Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white youLook like a stray lamb from our fold.
‘O Robin, but you are late:Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me.’—(Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)
‘Lay not down your head on my breast:I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold youIn the shelter that you love best.
‘Feel not after my clasping hand: 40 I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand.
‘We are trees which have shed their leaves:Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there;Only I grieve for my wife who grieves.
‘I could rest if you would not moanHour after hour; I have no powerTo shut my ears where I lie alone.
‘I could rest if you would not cry;But there’s no sleeping while you sit weeping—50Watching, weeping so bitterly.’—
‘Woe’s me! woe’s me! for this I have heard.Oh night of sorrow!—oh black to-morrow!Is it thus that you keep your word?
‘O you who used so to shelter meWarm from the least wind—why, now the east windIs warmer than you, whom I quake to see.
‘O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good, 60
‘What do you do there, underground,In the dark hollow? I’m fain to follow.What do you do there?—what have you found?’—
‘What I do there I must not tell:But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye:It is well with us—it is well.
‘Tender hand hath made our nest;Our fear is ended, our hope is blendedWith present pleasure, and we have rest.’—
‘Oh, but Robin, I’m fain to come, 70 If your present days are so pleasant; For my days are so wearisome.
‘Yet I’ll dry my tears for your sake:Why should I tease you, who cannot please youAny more with the pains I take?’