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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408105" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Phantom Footsteps</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Childish foosteps, just behind her,<br>Softly patter on the green.<br>Back she glances; tears may blind her,<br>But no little one is seen.<br>Blanched, as by an ill appalling,<br>Home in terror hastens she,<br>While a baby voice is calling,<br>"Mother! mother! wait for me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Phantom footsteps! hear them<br>falling (falling, falling),<br>falling (falling, falling)<br>Now, wherever she may be!<br>(hear footsteps falling!)<br>While a baby voice is<br>call- (calling, calling,)<br>-ing, (calling, calling,)<br>"Mother! mother! wait for me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sobbing still, but never lagging,<br>Soon she enters the gate,<br>And before her, on the flagging,<br>Sees the symbols of her fate:<br>Tiny shoeprints, plainly speaking<br>Of the salt and foamy sea.<br>Hark! was that the doorhinge creaking?<br>"Mother! mother! wait for me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Half her night is spent in weeping,<br>Ere she can forget her cares:<br>Is there not an infant creeping--<br>Creeping slowly up the stairs?<br>Venturing thither in her yearning,<br>Only shadows can she see;<br>But she hears the cry while turning,<br>"Mother! mother! wait for me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Henry+Clay+Work">Henry Clay Work</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=408105" data-title="Phantom Footsteps de Henry Clay Work" data-description="Childish foosteps, just behind her, Softly patter on the green. Back she glances; tears may blind her, But no little one is seen. Blanched, as by an ill appalling, Home in terror hastens she, While a baby voice is calling, "Mother! mother! wa..."></div> </div> </div>
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