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Poems . Craik, Dinah Maria Mulock, 1826–1887.
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page: 118

A GHOST AT THE DANCING.

  • A WIND‐SWEPT tulip‐bed—a colored cloud
  • Of butterflies careering in the air—
  • A many‐figured arras stirred to life,
  • And merry unto midnight music dumb—
  • So the dance whirls. Do any think of thee,
  • Amiel, Amiel?
page: 119
  • Friends greet each other—countless rills of talk
  • Meander round, scattering a spray of smiles.
  • Surely—the news was false. One minute more
  • And thou wilt stand here, tall and quiet‐eyed,
  • Shakespearian beauty in they pensive face,
  • Amiel, Amiel.
  • Many here knew and loved thee—I nor loved,
  • Scarce knew—yet in thy place a shadow glides,
  • And a face shapes itself from empty air,
  • Watching the dancers, grave and quiet‐eyed—
  • Eyes that now see the angels evermore,
  • Amiel, Amiel.
  • On just such night as this, ’midst dance and song,
  • I bade thee carelessly a light good by—
  • “Good by”—saidst thou; “A happy journey home!”
  • Was the unseen death‐angel at thy side,
  • Mocking those words—(“A happy journey home,
  • Amiel, Amiel?
  • Ay, we play fool’s play still; thou hast gone home.
  • While these dance here, a mile hence o’er thy grave
  • Drifts the deep New Year snow. The wondrous gate
  • We spoke of, thou hast entered; I without
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  • Grope ignorant still—thou dost its secrets know,
  • Amiel, Amiel.
  • What if, thus sitting where we sat last year,
  • Thou camest, took’st up our broken thread of talk,
  • And told’st of that new Home, which far I view,
  • As children, wandering on through wintry fields,
  • Mark on the hill the father’s window shine,
  • Amiel, Amiel?
  • No. We shall see thy pleasant face no more;
  • Thy words on earth are ended. Yet thou livest;
  • ’T is we who die.—I too, one day shall come,
  • And, unseen, watch these shadows, quiet‐eyed—
  • Then flit back to thy land, the living land,
  • Amiel, Amiel.
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