There! Her pale visage plays with me,
Haunting my city’s streets,
Spectre of pretty perfection,
Brilliant in her bedsheets.

Intimate her imitation,
Folly this shadow’s game,
I flush, I read, I feel her chill,
To touch her spooky fame –

Now I wish to mourn the living,
Bound by the breathless call,
The Lady in White still standing,
While we mere mortals fall.

…. a tribute to the Lady in White (E.D.)

Folly’s Mirror.

I came upon a still body –
Lifeless, empty with rot,
Most awful, wretched, ill advised,
Thank Heavens I was not.

There I would lay him under earth,
His misadventure sprung,
For time had come to prey on him,
Although he was so young –

A fly had cause enough to buzz,
Conjectured cause of death,
Seemly, he fought for lady love,
It cost him his last breath.

Held to the last a letter clasped,
From hand I pulled it free,
Although I never knew the boy,
His lady love was me!