Page:The man against the sky; a book of poems.djvu/95

 But he would find the old room very still Of evenings, and the ghosts would all be there.

I doubt if he goes after them; I doubt If many of them ever come to him. His memories are like lamps, and they go out; Or if they burn, they flicker and are dim.

A light of other gleams he has to-day And adulations of applauding hosts; A famous danger, but a safer way Than growing old alone among the ghosts.

But we may still be glad that we were wrong: He fooled us, and we'd shrivel to deny it; Though sometimes when old echoes ring too long, I wish the bells in Boris would be quiet.