Ghosts of all my lovely sins
Who attend too well my pillow
Gay the wanton rain begins
Hide the limp and tearful willow

Turn aside your eyes and ears
Trail away your robes of sorrow
You shall have my further years
You shall walk with me tomorrow

I am sister to the rain
Fey and sudden and unholy
Petulant at the windowpane
Quickly lost, remembered slowly

I have lived with shades, a shade
I am hung with graveyard flowers
Let me be tonight arrayed
In the silver of the showers

Every fragile thing shall rust
When another April passes
I may be a furry dust
Sifting through the brittle grasses

All sweet sins shall be forgot
Who will live to tell their siring?
Hear me now, nor let me rot
Wistful still, and still aspiring

Ghosts of dear temptations, heed
I am frail, be you forgiving
See you not that I have need
To be living with the living?

Sail, tonight, the Styx's breast
Glide among the dim processions
Of the exquisite unblest
Spirits of my shared transgressions

Roam with young Persephone
Plucking poppies for your slumber
With the morrow, there shall be
One more wraith among your number