Ghosts

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Title:     Ghosts
Author: Yukon Bill [More Titles by Bill]

Deep lies the snow on the white, white plain,
And frosted the fretwork on window-pane.

The Storm King has laid his icy clasp
On th' lock o' th' Year: 'tis an iron hasp.

The camp fire gleams, and its ruddy glow
Throws shadows quaint on the drifting snow;

My heart leaps up, for I see a form
That makes the blood in my veins run warm:

A woman is standing beside my bed,
And these are the words, I swear, she said:--

"YOU MAY WANDER AFAR; BUT, GO WHERE YOU WILL,
THE GHOSTS OF THE PAST WILL FOLLOW YOU STILL!"

Another comes--a girl-face, worn,
And of every good resolution shorn,--

She utters no word; but her eyes of blue
Are burning, piercing me through and through!

Yet another comes and takes Her place----
I close my eyes lest I see HER face----

For the flush of youth on the girlish brow
Is lost in the wanton woman now--

And I was to blame! God, let me forget!
And I wipe away the beads of sweat

That lie on my brow like blood-red rain----
And I try to pray--but words are vain;--

For I know that the ghosts of my sins are here
To mock me at this, the end o' th' Year!

[The end]
Yukon Bill's poem: Ghosts

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