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Ririro · Poems

The Ghost’s Petition

poems--the-ghosts-petition

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‘There’s a footstep coming: look out and see,’ ‘The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; No one cometh across the lea.’—

‘There’s a footstep coming: O sister, look.’— ‘The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; No one cometh across the brook.’—

‘But he promised that he would come: To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, He must keep his word, and must come home.

‘For he promised that he would come: His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home.

‘Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain.

‘I shall sit here awhile, and watch; Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.’

After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, Who had watched and wept the weary night.

After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping— Watching, weeping for one away.

There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air—

Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast.

‘O Robin, but you are cold— Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you Look like a stray lamb from our fold.

‘O Robin, but you are late: Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me.’— (Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)

‘Lay not down your head on my breast: I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best.

‘Feel not after my clasping hand: I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand.

‘We are trees which have shed their leaves: Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; Only I grieve for my wife who grieves.

‘I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone.

‘I could rest if you would not cry; But there’s no sleeping while you sit weeping— Watching, weeping so bitterly.’—

‘Woe’s me! woe’s me! for this I have heard. Oh, night of sorrow!—oh, black to-morrow! Is it thus that you keep your word?

‘O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least wind—why, now the east wind Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see.

‘O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good,

‘What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I’m fain to follow. What do you do there?—what have you found?’—

‘What I do there I must not tell: But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: It is well with us—it is well.

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  "title": "The Ghost’s Petition",
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  "language": "en",
  "summary": "This poem narrates a nocturnal, uncanny visitation in which a woman and her sister wait anxiously for a promised return; after a long, sorrowful night one sister sleeps while the other keeps vigil and a footstep heralds the husband's arrival, but he comes as a cold, insubstantial figure—a shadow from the field of the dead—unable to be embraced or comforted. The repeated refrains of watchful longing and the liminal timing “after the dark, and before the light” heighten the sense of suspended hope, while natural images (falling leaves, rippling brook) echo the boundary between life and death. Rather than offering solace, the apparition reproaches the living woman for her unceasing crying, which prevents his rest, and insists cryptically that he and those like him are content though distant; the poem thus explores grief, the failure of physical promises in the face of mortality, and the uneasy consolation that the dead may be at peace even as the living remain tormented and unresolved.",
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    "‘There’s a footstep coming: look out and see,’ ‘The leaves are falling, the wind is calling; No one cometh across the lea.’—",
    "‘There’s a footstep coming: O sister, look.’— ‘The ripple flashes, the white foam dashes; No one cometh across the brook.’—",
    "‘But he promised that he would come: To-night, to-morrow, in joy or sorrow, He must keep his word, and must come home.",
    "‘For he promised that he would come: His word was given; from earth or heaven, He must keep his word, and must come home.",
    "‘Go to sleep, my sweet sister Jane; You can slumber, who need not number Hour after hour, in doubt and pain.",
    "‘I shall sit here awhile, and watch; Listening, hoping, for one hand groping In deep shadow to find the latch.’",
    "After the dark, and before the light, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping, Who had watched and wept the weary night.",
    "After the night, and before the day, One lay sleeping; and one sat weeping— Watching, weeping for one away.",
    "There came a footstep climbing the stair; Some one standing out on the landing Shook the door like a puff of air—",
    "Shook the door, and in he passed. Did he enter? In the room centre Stood her husband: the door shut fast.",
    "‘O Robin, but you are cold— Chilled with the night-dew: so lily-white you Look like a stray lamb from our fold.",
    "‘O Robin, but you are late: Come and sit near me—sit here and cheer me.’— (Blue the flame burnt in the grate.)",
    "‘Lay not down your head on my breast: I cannot hold you, kind wife, nor fold you In the shelter that you love best.",
    "‘Feel not after my clasping hand: I am but a shadow, come from the meadow Where many lie, but no tree can stand.",
    "‘We are trees which have shed their leaves: Our heads lie low there, but no tears flow there; Only I grieve for my wife who grieves.",
    "‘I could rest if you would not moan Hour after hour; I have no power To shut my ears where I lie alone.",
    "‘I could rest if you would not cry; But there’s no sleeping while you sit weeping— Watching, weeping so bitterly.’—",
    "‘Woe’s me! woe’s me! for this I have heard. Oh, night of sorrow!—oh, black to-morrow! Is it thus that you keep your word?",
    "‘O you who used so to shelter me Warm from the least wind—why, now the east wind Is warmer than you, whom I quake to see.",
    "‘O my husband of flesh and blood, For whom my mother I left, and brother, And all I had, accounting it good,",
    "‘What do you do there, underground, In the dark hollow? I’m fain to follow. What do you do there?—what have you found?’—",
    "‘What I do there I must not tell: But I have plenty: kind wife, content ye: It is well with us—it is well."
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