Explore "Ghosts" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Was it the strain of the waltz that, repeating / "Love," so bewitched me? or only the gleam / There of the lustres, that set my heart beating, / Feeling your presence as one feels a dream?
For, on a sudden, the woman of fashion, / Soft at my side in her diamonds and lace, / Vanished, and pale with reproach or with passion, / You, my dead sweetheart, smiled up in my face.