If ghosts existed there are some men
who could never effectually belong
to a thin as air congregation,
who’d find the trailing end of some bitter
wind’s or yew-tree’s slanting thunder
weeping or not their place to shelter under.

If ghosts exist I shall be one of them,
knowing with love each individual bright
station of any heavenly spirit:
yet never approaching high for long,
but as if the refracted alleys of distance