Fast though her taper dwindles down,
Heavy and thick the tome,
A beauty beyond fear to dim
Haunts now her alien home.

Ghosts in the world, malignant, grim,
Vex many a wood and glen,
And house and pool--the unquiet ghosts,
Of dead and restless men.

But in her grannie's house this spirit--
A child as lone as she--
Pining for love not found on earth,
Ann dreams again to see.

Seated upon her tapestry stool,
Her fairy-book laid by,
She gazes into the fire, knowing
She has sweet company.




THE MILLER AND HIS SON


A twangling harp for Mary,
A silvery flute for John,
And now we'll play, the livelong day,