There is a woman’s soul that lingers long
Around my home tonight, in dreams it calls
Like love: (Is it the winf’s soft whistling song?)
I hear it come, its foot so lightly falls,
And tiptoes on the carpet of the floor;
Then like a night-thief stealing, steals from me
A kiss that keeps me dreaming, wishing more.
For I, half-feigning who this kisser be,
Arose to catch the golden threads that gleamed-
Now fallen fancies, broken at my feet.
Would I had never walked but only dreamed
And ne’er pursued this soul I failed to meet:
It’s gone, no footprint tells it graced my room;
Outside is darkness, and inside is gloom.