20 APRIL 1889, Page 15



IN through the porch and up the silent stair ;

Little is changed, I know so well the ways ;- Here, the dead came to meet me ; it was there The dream was dreamed in unforgotten days.

But who is this that hurries on before, A flitting shade the brooding shades among P- She turned,—I saw her face,-0 God ! it wore The face I used to wear when I was young!

I thought my spirit and my heart were tamed To deadness ; dead the pangs that agonise.

The old grief springs to choke me,—I am shamed Before that little ghost with eager eyes.

0 turn away, let her not see, not know !

How should she bear it, how should understand P 0 hasten down the stairway, haste and go, And leave her dreaming in the silent land.