Late at night, the speaker senses a presence entering the house—strange shapes at the door, a soft footstep on the old floor. It turns out to be a lost loved one, recognizable by the image of golden hair wrapped around her like a cloak. The air itself seems to change: the house smells as fresh as a flower opening in April rain.
The speaker doesn’t need conversation or proof. Falling at the ghost’s feet is enough; simply having her near brings comfort. There is no fear in the encounter, only longing and a kind of reverence. The direct address to “you” makes the memory feel immediate and private. The repetition of “lovely and lost” and “wrapped round in the cloak / Of your golden long hair” gives the poem a hushed, chant-like feeling. The mood is eerie but tender—sadness and longing mix with a strange sweetness. Even though she belongs to the past, the visit feels like a gift.