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 ::::THE MIST

N and out of the mist We waver, ghosts that we are! And the hands and lips we have kissed Beckon us from afar: Beckon us, whisper us, cry to us. In and out of the mist; Mock us, elude us, fly from us; The hands and lips we have kissed.

In and out of the mist, like ghosts We waver along the shore. Flickering phantom-hosts, Lost evermore — evermore! Whispering, beckoning, sighing, Weeping, vexing the night. Nothing can stop our crying. Except red burning light!

Ghosts in the mist are we, And ghosts are the planets who peer And peep at our misery. With their tender pitiful leer; But the great vermilion sun That in one moment's blaze Could melt, transfigure, and clarify. And outline against eternity. Our inmost selves and our troubled days,