They look in with dim eyes <br />And faces sweet and sad, <br />Upon the life that dies — <br />Shades who have had <br />Their part in all things here, <br />The mortal hope and fear, <br />Till, as now from the bier <br />But one remove, <br />They hark the still hours chime <br />Within the Tower of Time <br />As to the sad, sweet rhyme <br />Of life and love. <br />They see more than we know, <br />They hear more than we may, <br />Who ever come and go <br />Like stars on a cloudy way: <br />And they grow sad to ken <br />The mortal life of men, <br />In the vesper light again <br />As they look in <br />And feel the phantom thrill <br />Of all the good and ill, <br />Of love and beauty still <br />And pain and sin. <br />And then with faces wan <br />They to each other turn, <br />Dreaming of what is gone, <br />E'en as they yearn <br />Perchance to lift the veil <br />With fingers thin and pale <br />Showing the no avail <br />Of so much here, <br />And how all things are cast <br />As in a dream at last, <br />When the future as the past <br />Shall disappear.<br /><br />Robert Crawford<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ghosts-45/
