Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/140

Rh And then the spirit, moving from her place, Touched there a shoulder, whispered m each ear, Bent by the old man, nodding in his chair, But no one heeded her, or seemed to hear. Then crew the black cock, and so weeping sore She went alone into the night again, And said the greybeard, reaching for his glass, “How sad a wind blows on the window-pane!”

And then from dreaming the long dreams of age He woke, remembering, and let fall a tear: “Alas! I have forgot—and have you gone?— I set no chair to welcome you, my dear.” And said the maidens, laughing in their play, “How he goes groaning, wrinkled-faced and hoar, He is so old, and angry with his age— Hush I hear the banshee sobbing past the door.”