The Lover’s Ghost

A crazy moon,
A moon and crumbled walls
List to the spectre's plaint,
The quick footfalls.

The watchman owl
Upon his dismal round
Marks the three token taps,
And then no sound.

Marauder mice
Count the foiled steps and slow,
Where naked beauty slept
Long years ago.

– F.W. Bateson, 1923

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