Dream

By Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

I SEE a spirit

Young and eager,

Beautiful, too, I think,

( Although I cannot see it clearly )

It is, by right of its own being,

One with all lovely, youthful things;

And they, its age-old kindred,

Welcome it

Saying, “Come, you too are one of us!”

This spirit is my own happy ghost —

But I, myself,— alas!