From the Grand Forks Daily Herald, March 16, 1915. By Henry Waldorf Francis.
I am the brooding Ghost of words that should have been unspoken;
I am the scourge of hearts that have the hearts of others broken;
I am the lash of Conscience hurt by things past all undoing,
Over the grave of other days bitter memories strewing!
I am the biting aftermath of love and good neglected,
I am the everlasting sting of better things rejected;
I am the sharp, consuming grief unthought of in the breeding,
Avenging wrath of all who give to Mercy’s voice no heeding!
I am the Guest who comes unbid with voice forever chiding,
Deep in the secret heart of man I am the long abiding;
Would you avoid the pain of me, the mocking, cutting laughter,
Pause ere you speak or act to ask if I may come thereafter!