Explore "The Pier-Glass" by Robert Graves on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
(_To T. E. Lawrence, who helped me with it_)
Lost manor where I walk continually / A ghost, while yet in woman's flesh and blood. / Up your broad stairs mounting with outspread fingers / And gliding steadfast down your corridors / I come by nightly custom to this room, / And even on sultry afternoons I come / Drawn by a thread of time-sunk memory.