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Poem by John Kenyon Apparitions If, as they say, the Dead erewhile return, Sent or permitted, from their shadowy bourn; Yet not, or so we trust, shall every ghost, In his old guise, reclaim our mortal coast. Let Spurio, if once more among us thrown, Come back in any shape—except his own. While, Phyllis! you, the frank and debonnair,— Do you return—the very thing you were. John Kenyon John Kenyon's other poems: 1208 Views |
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