The Haunted House
We have been sad too long. Close up this desolate house,
Seal the ivied chambers, leave them to the snarling
Of the garoul wind at night, to the titter of the mouse,
And the blind, luckless beating of the prisoner starling.
Kiss not ever again the lily-white silenced face
Of that one hour you loved. Leave it alone to rot,
And carrion-beetle Time shall bear to his ordered place
What is spared of wind and rain. Wise heart, remember not.
Keep no tryst with your dreams beneath this fatal roof
Where Youth was struck like a tree, and its tall white glory riven;
For here in the moving darkness, blind hands fumble the woof
Of years to shroud the face of a trespasser unforgiven.