Gulp down your wine, old friends of mine, <br />Roar through the darkness, stamp and sing <br />And lay ghost hands on everything, <br />But leave the noonday's warm sunshine <br />To living lads for mirth and wine. <br /> <br />I met you suddenly down the street, <br />Strangers assume your phantom faces, <br />You grin at me from daylight places, <br />Dead, long dead, I'm ashamed to greet <br />Dead men down the morning street.<br /><br />Robert Graves<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/haunted-56/
