home again!

I must not be tired, or think of my load;
I must try to walk with a step more free;
I have to help Harry along the road,
That is so much harder for him than me.

Living alone in the depths of a wood,
Life catches meanings, and things become clear;
But Harry is growing so very good,
That it almost gives me a sort of fear.

'O little May-blossom!' he softly cries,
As together we tread the well-worn way,
'There is nothing sweeter beneath the skies,
Than a little shining blossom of May!

O lie on my heart, as you ever do,
Till my heart grows lighter under your touch;
O little May-blossom! while I have _you_
No shaft of misfortune can hurt me much!'

He has work'd all day on the virgin sod;
We have eaten the meal that my hands prepare;
We have said our prayers to the Father-God,
And Harry is placidly sleeping there.

He is sleeping there, while I work away--
My busy needle has plenty to do;
And my thoughts turn idly to yesterday,
And a world where troubles were very few;

To a world that shines in a distance fair,
Like a fairy dream, impossibly sweet,--
_Was_ life what it seem'd when we liv'd out there?
Or was it only a lovely deceit?

Slumber approach'd not my eyes--open'd wide--
My wide-open eyes that so seldom weep!
Harry turn'd in his sleep, and turning sigh'd--
It breaks my heart when he sighs in his sleep.

And while I sat there in the twilight-gloom,
Looking at life with my wide-open eyes,
A ghost slipp'd suddenly into the room,
And that ghost was the ghost of Jack Devize!

A shiver ran o'er me from head to foot--
The crisis had come, and fate wrought her worst--
I tried to speak, but my tongue was quite mute,
And I knew that a ghost could _not_ speak first.

O ought I to wake my Harry, or no?
To question the Thing, and let it depart?
The good God would never frighten me so,
If it was not to ease my Harry's heart.

But while I was doubting in fear and pain,
And praying for light to see my way clear,
The ghost said--'My goodness! it's Mrs. Vane!
How in the world did the woman come here?'

The ghost stalk'd towards me with outstretch'd hand:
I put mine behind me, and back'd away;
My terrified brain could not understand,
And my arid lips had nothing to say.

Yet for Harry's sake no time must be lost:
I must ask the dreadful Thing why it came;
Then I rememb