There came a whisper in the night,
A little cry across the years;
And I who heard, in deep affright,
Awakened with unnumbered fears.

'It is some deed that I have done,
Some sin I wrought, long, long ago;
But hush! am I the only one?
Wherefore am I then troubled so?

'For all men do some evil deed,
And some men falter, some men fall;
Do ghosts of Selfishness and Greed
Come back, O God, to haunt them all!'

Then came a whisper in the night,
A little cry across the years;
And I who heard, in deep affright,
Listened with wild, unnumbered fears.
'I am the ghost of that pure deed
You might have done, but did not do;
I am the ghost of that good seed
You might have sown when Life was new.

'And this it is that haunts you now,
That deed undone, that seed unsown;
Too late, too late to take the plough,
The Spring is fled, the May is flown!'
And this I heard amid the night,
This voice that called across the years,
And when the dawn came, silver-white,
I was companioned with my tears.