THE LITTLE GHOST

I knew her for a little ghost

That in my garden walked;

The wall is high—higher than most—

And the green gate was locked.

***

And yet I did not think of that

Till after she was gone—

I knew her by the broad white hat,

All ruffled, she had on.

***

By the dear ruffles round her feet,

By her small hands that hung

In their lace mitts, austere and sweet,

Her gown's white folds among.

***

I watched to see if she would stay,

What she would do—and oh!

She looked as if she liked the way

I let my garden grow!

***

She bent above my favourite mint

With conscious garden grace,

She smiled and smiled—there was no hint

Of sadness in her face.

***

She held her gown on either side

To let her slippers show,

And up the walk she went with pride,

The way great ladies go.

***

And where the wall is built in new

And is of ivy bare

She paused—then opened and passed through

A gate that once was there.

***

--Edna St. Vincent Millay