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| I KNEW her for a little ghost |
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| That in my garden walked; |
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| The wall is high—higher than most— |
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| And the green gate was locked. |
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| And yet I did not think of that |
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| Till after she was gone— |
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| I knew her by the broad white hat, |
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| All ruffled, she had on. |
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| By the dear ruffles round her feet, |
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| By her small hands that hung |
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| In their lace mitts, austere and sweet, |
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| Her gown’s white folds among. |
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| I watched to see if she would stay, |
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| What she would do—and oh! |
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| She looked as if she liked the way |
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| I let my garden grow! |
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| She bent above my favourite mint |
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| With conscious garden grace, |
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| She smiled and smiled—there was no hint |
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| Of sadness in her face. |
20 |
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| She held her gown on either side |
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| To let her slippers show, |
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| And up the walk she went with pride, |
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| The way great ladies go. |
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| And where the wall is built in new |
25 |
| And is of ivy bare |
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| She paused—then opened and passed through |
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| A gate that once was there. |
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