YES--kiss my forehead where the pain <br />Is grinding outwards from my brain! <br />But will not pity teach you, too, <br />To kiss these lips no fire burns through-- <br />These cheeks, made colourless and thin <br />By years you had no portion in-- <br />These weary eyes that wake and ache <br />Not for your sake--not for your sake: <br />Kiss, child, and let your kisses see <br />If they can find the heart in me! <br />There is a heart--or used to be! <br /> <br /> <br />I think the pain is growing less <br />Under your passionless caress-- <br />Ah! could you teach my lips to crave <br />But just such kisses as you gave, <br />And could you, treading my life's ways, <br />But lay these ghosts of dear dead days <br />That walk my world by day and night, <br />And bar the way of all delight-- <br />If at your touch should waken--.. . . Vain! <br />From heaven itself my soul would plain: <br />'Give me my ghosts, my ghosts again!'<br /><br />Edith Nesbit<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ghosts-43/
