OUR LITTLE GHOST
by: Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888)
- FT in the
silence of the night,
- When the lonely moon rides high,
- When wintry winds are whistling,
- And we hear the owl's shrill cry;
- In the quiet, dusky chamber,
- By the flickering firelight,
- Rising up between two sleepers,
- Comes a spirit all in white.
- A winsome little ghost it is,
- Rosy-cheeked and bright of eye,
- With yellow curls all breaking loose
- From the small cap pushed awry;
- Up it climbs among the pillows,
- For the "big gark" brings no dread,
- And a baby's busy fancy
- Makes a kingdom of a bed.
- A fearless little ghost it is;
- Safe the night as is the day;
- The lonely moon to it is fair,
- The sighing winds to it are gay.
- The solitude is full of friends,
- And the hour brings no regrets,
- For in this happy little soul
- Shines a sun that never sets.
- A merry little ghost it is,
- Dancing gayly by itself
- On the flowery counterpane,
- Like a tricksy household elf;
- Nodding to the fitful shadows
- As they flicker on the wall,
- Talking to familiar pictures,
- Mimicking the owl's shrill call.
- A thoughtful little ghost it is;
- And when lonely gambols tire,
- With chubby hands on chubby knees,
- Sits winking at the fire;
- Fancies innocent and lovely
- Shine before those baby eyes;
- Sunny fields of dandelions,
- Brooks, and birds, and butterflies.
- A loving little ghost it is,
- When crept into its nest,
- Its hand on father's shoulder laid,
- Its head on mother's breast,
- It watches each familiar face
- With a tranquil, trusting eye,
- And, like a sleepy little bird,
- Sings its own soft lullaby.
- Then those who feigned to sleep before,
- Lest baby play till dawn,
- Wake and watch their folded flower,
- Little rose without a thorn!
- And in the silence of the night,
- The hearts that love it most,
- Pray tenderly above its sleep,
- "God bless our little ghost!"
POEMS BY LOUISA MAY ALCOTT
"Our Little Ghost" is
reprinted from The Flag of Our Union, September 15, 1866.