... So she came back to you and me, She who had been the lovely third ... A little, blue ghost in time for tea; Smiling and grave and with no word Of how things fare with such as she, But suddenly lonely when she heard, In that still place, the fragile clink Of tea cups, and her own dear name, 'Twas like her to be touched, I think, With smiling pity for you and me;— So, in a breathless haste, she came, A little, blue ghost in time for tea. |