Bonzai, the second paragraph seems to fit your description, but I'll put the whole poem as it's so short.

 
  Hauntings 

In the grey tumult of these after years
   Oft silence falls; the incessant wranglers part;
And less-than-echoes of remembered tears
   Hush all the loud confusion of the heart;
And a shade, through the toss'd ranks of mirth and crying
   Hungers, and pains, and each dull passionate mood, --
Quite lost, and all but all forgot, undying,
   Comes back the ecstasy of your quietude. 



So a poor ghost, beside his misty streams,
Is haunted by strange doubts, evasive dreams,
   Hints of a pre- Lethean life, of men,
Stars, rocks, and flesh, things unintelligible,
   And light on waving grass, he knows not when,
And feet that ran, but where, he cannot tell.

PACIFIC, 1914