The Great War

from Poems, an electronic edition

The House Across
the Way

The leaves looked in at the window

Of the house across the way,

At a man that had sinned like you and me

And all poor human clay.

He muttered : "In a gambol

I took my soul astray,

But to-morrow I'll drag it back from danger,

In the morning, come what may;

For no man knows what season

He shall go his ghostly way."

And his face fell down upon the table,

And where it fell it lay.

And the wind blew under the carpet

And it said, or it seemed to say:

"Truly, all men must go a-ghosting

And no man knows his day."

And the leaves stared in at the window

Like the people at a play.