Classic Poem

The little white ghost of the dreams I had dream'd
For the boy who was wooing his bride,
In the cold still hour 'twixt day and night,
Came out and stood at my side.
The little white ghost of the first Babe's love,
For the limbs and the fair round head
That nestled and slept at my heart all night,
Came out and stood by my bed.
The little white ghost of my fears and hopes,
And the future a mother can make,
Came out from between his father and me,
As the day began to break.
And why should it not? since it is but a ghost —
And who can give life to the dead?
We cannot give back to the spectres of old
The substance and glow that are fled.
To-morrow will come with a triumph of love,
And the laughter of boys and their shout,
And what of the arm where the baby has lain?
So the little white ghost went out.