VI.

Shall I stay to look on her nearer? Would she start and vanish away? Oh, no, she will never see me, Stand I near as I may!

It is not this wind she is feeling, Not this cool grass below; 'Tis the wind and the grass of an evening A hundred years ago.

She sees no roses darkling, No stately hollyhocks dim; She is only thinking and dreaming The garden, the night, and him,

The unlit windows behind her, The timeless dial-stone, The trees, and the moon, and the shadows A hundred years agone!

'Tis a night for a ghostly lover To haunt the best-loved spot: Is he come in his dreams to this garden? I gaze, but I see him not.