UPON a little rise it stands alone, Dark and forbidding, where three crossroads meet; The dim, fierce windows frown upon the street From walls with mould and mosses overgrown. Pink hollyhocks group idly at the door, And bend above the latch with prying eyes, Or shake their heads and whisper, gossipwise, Secrets that trouble living hearts no more. The rusty hinges give a warning scream; The jealous panels shudder as they swing. About my face the dusty cobwebs cling, Soft as the shadow-fingers of a dream. There is a window looking to the sea; The small, cracked panes are blurred as if with tears. Here long ago a young bride felt the fears That even now creep coldly over me. Here trembling still she sat, yet made no moan, But felt an unseen presence fill the door, And heard a light step steal across the floor, And shrank beneath a touch that chilled her own. . . . Once more I pass the hall, the dim oak stair. A sudden gust breathes down, a tremulous sigh; A silken rustle lightly whispers by; A fragrance as of roses fills the air. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE MARCHING, AND AFTER (IN MEMORIAM F.W.G.) by THOMAS HARDY SPRING QUIET by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE DOOMED MAN by JOSEPH ADDISON ALEXANDER THE SISTER AT A MATERNITY HOSPITAL by R. ALEXANDER BATE CONCERT PARTY: BUSSEBOOM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN I WILL HAVE FAITH by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |