The Ghost Of The Past

We two kept house, the Past and I,         The Past and I;     I tended while it hovered nigh,         Leaving me never alone.     It was a spectral housekeeping         Where fell no jarring tone,     As strange, as still a housekeeping         As ever has been known.     As daily I went up the stair         And down the stair,     I did not mind the Bygone there -         The Present once to me;     Its moving meek companionship         I wished might ever be,     There was in that companionship         Something of ecstasy.     It dwelt with me just as it was,         Just as it was     When first its prospects gave me pause         In wayward wanderings,     Before the years had torn old troths         As they tear all sweet things,     Before gaunt griefs had torn old troths         And dulled old rapturings.     And then its form began to fade,         Began to fade,     Its gentle echoes faintlier played         At eves upon my ear     Than when the autumn's look embrowned         The lonely chambers here,     The autumn's settling shades embrowned         Nooks that it haunted near.     And so with time my vision less,         Yea, less and less     Makes of that Past my housemistress,         It dwindles in my eye;     It looms a far-off skeleton         And not a comrade nigh,     A fitful far-off skeleton         Dimming as days draw by.