In the dim gray mist of the golden years, By the path where the dead dream lies, The wraith of a ghostly girl appears With a curl down over her eyes, A good little girl in the vanished days With eyes that were sweet and sad, But sometimes she walked by the primrose ways And then she was pretty bad. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CLOTE (WATER-LILY) by WILLIAM BARNES THE MOCKING BIRD by SIDNEY LANIER JUDGE NOT by ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER LOCKSLEY HALL by ALFRED TENNYSON JOLLY NOSE by WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH POLYHYMNIA: VERSES TO LORD NORREYS, SELECTION by WILLIAM BASSE |