The Poetry Corner

The Ghost's Petition

By Christina Georgina Rossetti

'There's a footstep coming: look out and see,' 'The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; No one cometh across the lea.' - 'There's a footstep coming; O sister, look.' - 'The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; No one cometh across the brook.' - 'But he promised that he would come: To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, He must keep his word, and must come home. 'For he promised that he would come: His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home. 'Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain. 'I shall sit here awhile, and watch; Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.' After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, Who had watched and wept the weary night. After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping - Watching, weeping for one away. There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air - Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast. 'O Robin, but you are cold - Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you Look like a stray lamb from our fold. 'O Robin, but you are late: Come and sit near me - sit here and cheer me.' - (Blue the flame burnt in the grate.) 'Lay not down your head on my breast: I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best. 'Feel not after my clasping hand: I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand. 'We are trees which have shed their leaves: Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; Only I grieve for my wife who grieves. 'I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone. 'I could rest if you would not cry; But there's no sleeping while you sit weeping - Watching, weeping so bitterly.' - 'Woe's me! woe's me! for this I have heard. Oh night of sorrow! - oh black to-morrow! Is it thus that you keep your word? 'O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least wind - why, now the east wind Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see. 'O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good, 'What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I'm fain to follow. What do you do there? - what have you found?' - 'What I do there I must not tell: But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: It is well with us - it is well. 'Tender hand hath made our nest; Our fear is ended, our hope is blended With present pleasure, and we have rest.' - 'Oh, but Robin, I'm fain to come, If your present days are so pleasant; For my days are so wearisome. 'Yet I'll dry my tears for your sake: Why should I tease you, who cannot please you Any more with the pains I take?'