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