Explore "The Ghost" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The year fades, as the west wind sighs, / And droops in many-coloured ways, / But your soft presence never dies / From out the pathway of my days.
The spring is where you are, but still / You from your heaven to me can bring / Sweet dreams and flowers enough to fill / A thousand empty worlds with Spring.