Ghost Night

A hundred strange things
Looked in at the door;
There went a soft foot
Across the old floor.

Oh, lovely and lost,
It was you who were there,
Wrapped round in the cloak
Of your golden long hair!

The house grew as sweet
As a just-lit flower,
On the edge of the rain,
In an April hour.

Wrapped round in the cloak
Of your golden long hair,
Oh, lovely and lost,
It was you who were there!

I fell at your feet;
Enough you were near,
Although but a ghost
With the ghosts of the year!

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