BESIDE the landsman knelt a dame, And slowly pushed the pages o'er; Still by the hearth-fire's spending flame She waited, while a hollow roar Came from the chimney, and the breath Of twice seven hounds upon the floor; And, save the old man's labored moan, The night had no sound more. The fire flickered; with a start The master hound upflung his head; Sudden he whined, when with one spring Each hunter bounded from his bed, -- And through rent blind and bolted door All voiceless every creature fled; The blinking watcher closed her book: "Amen, our lord is dead!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: DEEDS MIGHT HAVE BEEN by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT CUPID IN AMBUSH by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE LYNTON VERSES: 6. SYMPHONY by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN TO THE DAUGHTER OF A NYMPH by AGNES COCHRAN BUAMBLETT THE WANDERER: 3. IN ENGLAND: BABYLONIA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |