THE GHOST OF THE PAST

We two kept house, the Past and I,

The Past and I;

I tended while it hovered nigh,

Leaving me never alone.

It was a spectral housekeeping

Where fell no jarring tone,

As strange, as still a housekeeping

As ever has been known.

As daily I went up the stair

And down the stair,

I did not mind the Bygone there -

The Present once to me;

Its moving meek companionship

I wished might ever be,

There was in that companionship

Something of ecstasy.

It dwelt with me just as it was,

Just as it was

When first its prospects gave me pause

In wayward wanderings,

Before the years had torn old troths

As they tear all sweet things,

Before gaunt griefs had torn old troths

And dulled old rapturings.

And then its form began to fade,

Began to fade,

Its gentle echoes faintlier played

At eves upon my ear

Than when the autumn's look embrowned

The lonely chambers here,

The autumn's settling shades embrowned

Nooks that it haunted near.

And so with time my vision less,

Yea, less and less

Makes of that Past my housemistress,

It dwindles in my eye;

It looms a far-off skeleton

And not a comrade nigh,

A fitful far-off skeleton

Dimming as days draw by.