“This Desirable Mansion”

The long white windows blankly stare Across the sodden, tangled grass, Weed-covered are the pathways where No footsteps ever pass; No whispers wake, no kisses die, No laughter thrills the dwindling flowers, Only the night hears sigh on sigh From ghosts of long-dead hours.

None come here now to laugh or weep; The spider spins on stair and hall, And round the windows shadows creep, And loathly creatures crawl. Cold is the hearth; the door is fast; No guest the silent threshold sees Save ghosts out of the happy past,-- And one who is as these.