Explore "Second April: WRAITH" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Thin Rain, whom are you haunting,
That you haunt my door?"
-- Surely it is not I she's wanting; / Someone living here before -- / "Nobody's in the house but me: / You may come in if you like and see."
Thin as thread, with exquisite fingers, -- / Have you seen her, any of you? -- / Grey shawl, and leaning on the wind, / And the garden showing through?
Glimmering eyes, -- and silent, mostly, / Sort of a whisper, sort of a purr, / Asking something, asking it over, / If you get a sound from her. --
Ever see her, any of you? -- / Strangest thing I've ever known, -- / Every night since I moved in, / And I came to be alone.
"Thin Rain, hush with your knocking! / You may not come in! / This is I that you hear rocking; / Nobody's with me, nor has been!"
Curious, how she tried the window, -- / Odd, the way she tries the door, -- / Wonder just what sort of people / Could have had this house before . . .