English poem
The Haunted City
by Arthur St. John Adcock (1864–1930)
Some heart’s remembrance and regret Fill every street with life profound: This corner where of old we met To me has since been hallowed ground; I never pass in sun or rain Now, but I meet you here again.
We cannot go from where we dwell And leave behind no lingering trace; Where in the past our shadow fell A shadow of us haunts the place; Returning now, ourselves may there Disturb some ghost of what we were.
The stones are thrilled by many a tread That leaves no footprint where it strays; Shades of the living and the dead In silence throng the noisy ways: Here where I meet in shower or shine Your ghost, you haply meet with mine.
The air has sounds we cannot hear, Is dim with shapes that none can see; Though dear the living voice, and dear The sight of living faces be, With kindlier yearnings yet we greet The friends we see not when we meet.