Why will you haunt me unawares, <br />And walk into my sleep, <br />Pacing its shadowy thoroughfares, <br />Where long-dried perfume scents the airs, <br /> <br />While ghosts of sorrow creep, <br />Where on Hope's ruined altar-stairs, <br />With ineffectual beams, <br />The Moon of Memory coldly glares <br /> <br />Upon the land of dreams? <br />My yearning eyes were fain to look <br />Upon your hidden face; <br />Their love, alas! you could not brook, <br /> <br />But in your own you mutely took <br />My hand, and for a space <br />You wrung it till I throbbed and shook, <br />And woke with wildest moan <br /> <br />And wet face channelled like a brook <br />With your tears or my own.<br /><br />Mathilde Blind<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/haunted-65/
