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