What The Ghost Of The Gambler Said
Where now the huts are empty,
Where never a camp-fire glows,
In an abandoned cañon,
A Gambler's Ghost arose
Where now the huts are empty,
Where never a camp-fire glows,
In an abandoned cañon,
A Gambler's Ghost arose
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high,
When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's shrill cry,
In the quiet, dusky chamber, By the flickering firelight,
Rising up between two sleepers, Comes a ...
'Who knocks
' 'I, who was beautiful Beyond all dreams to restore,
I from the roots of the dark thorn am hither,
And knock on the door
Once I loved a spider When I was born a fly, A velvet-footed spider With a gown of rainbow-dye
She ate my wings and gloated
She bound me with a hair
She drove me to her parlor Above her winding stair
Through Goshen Hollow, where hemlocks grow,
Where rushing rills, with flash and flow,
Are over the rough rocks falling;
Where fox, where bear, and catamount hide,
I knew her for a little ghost That in my garden walked;
The wall is high—higher than most— And the green gate was locked
And yet I did not think of that Till after she was gone— I knew her by the broad white hat, All ruffled, she had on<...
Peace in thy hands,
Peace in thine eyes,
Peace on thy brow;
Flower of a moment in the eternal hour,