FROM DUSK TO DAWN.
123
They were blest, she knew, in their homely peace,—
A sad smile trembled about her mouth,—
"I am glad," she said, "that for some poor souls
There be full wells, though the rest have drouth."
A sad smile trembled about her mouth,—
"I am glad," she said, "that for some poor souls
There be full wells, though the rest have drouth."
She saw the children about the doors,
With fond young lips for mothers to kiss,
And from every home, as she passed along,
She caught some cadence of household bliss.
With fond young lips for mothers to kiss,
And from every home, as she passed along,
She caught some cadence of household bliss.
Till she came, at last, to her own low roof,
Where she and a ghost dwelt face to face,
The ghost of her days of joy and youth,
The only guest in that lonesome place.
Where she and a ghost dwelt face to face,
The ghost of her days of joy and youth,
The only guest in that lonesome place.
They talked together of all the past,—
She and the ghost, in the white moonlight,
Till the pale guest's face like an angel's grew,
An ancient glory had made it bright.
She and the ghost, in the white moonlight,
Till the pale guest's face like an angel's grew,
An ancient glory had made it bright.
