I shall come back without fanfaronade
Of wailing wind and graveyard panoply
But, trembling, slip from cool Eternity
A mild and most bewildered little shade
I shall not make sepulchral midnight raid
But softly come where I had longed to be
In April twilight's unsung melody
And I, not you, shall be the one afraid

Strange, that from lovely dreamings of the dead
I shall come back to you, who hurt me most
You may not feel my hand upon your head
I'll be so new and inexpert a ghost
Perhaps you will not know that I am near
And that will break my ghostly heart, my dear