Little over nightly days and ghostly wails—
   Comes a burden with a ghost,
   Deadlier than most encountered,
Still I have the failings that desired—
   Less than they required,
   Still there, mocking like the wind.


Earth and silver, more than gold—
   Still I hear, the ghostly wail of haunting wind.
   Love of mine,
   Is it you?
Answer, if you can—divine from Death.
   I am still here, waiting for your lovely health.


Then I saw the precious silver from the ground—
   And a dash of wind which tills the sound,
   Crying, wailing, like a ghost,
Name of purity, meaning purity, still sings—
   Name of yours, and still haunting,
   To this day, still haunting my very dreams.