A pensive photograph
Watches me from the shelf–
Ghost of old love, and half
Ghost of myself!
How the dear waiting eyes
Watch me and love me yet–
Sad home of memories,
Her waiting eyes!
Ghost of old love, wronged ghost,
Return: though all the pain
Of all once loved, long lost,
Come back again.
Forget not, but forgive!
Alas, too late I cry.
We are two ghosts that had their chance to live,
And lost it, she and I.
(Arthur Symons)
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