To a Portrait
Arthur Symons
A pensive photograph
Watches me from the shelf --
Ghost of old love, and half
Ghost of myself!
How the dear waiting eyes
Watch me and love me yet --
Sad home of memories,
Her waiting eyes!
Ghost of old love, wronged ghost,
Return: though all the pain
Of all once loved, long lost,
Come back again.
Forget not, but forgive!
Alas, too late I cry.
We are two ghosts that had their chance to live,
And lost it, she and I.