IN the old and ruined mansion Where no joyous voices call, And the gloomy shadows linger Like a solemn funeral pall; In some dim deserted passage Into ruin falling fast, Aye, they say, the chamber's haunted With the spirits of the past. When the shades of night have gathered, There with deep, majestic gloom Are these chambers clothed, while spectres Gather hither from the tomb. Not with loud, unhallowed sounding, Not with vain, unanswered call, Are they gathered, but in silence, -- Mystic, mournful silence all. Forms that once were bright with being, Faces wan that once were fair, Sadly come amid the silence That at midnight reigneth there. There they love to linger lightly Till the stars have ceased to glow, -- Linger lonely in the places That were joyous "long ago." There are chambers, haunted chambers, Which we each may call our own, Where are present forms and faces That in other days were known. In the silence of the midnight We, from busy life apart, Glance in sadness and in sorrow At the chambers of the heart. Ah, what forms are these to haunt us When alone with thought at night! Ah, what faces look upon us That we deemed were lost to sight! Some are bright as when we knew them, Others wan and filled with woe; All awake the thoughts that slumbered Of the days of "long ago." Ah, the haunted, haunted chambers Of the weary human heart; They are filled with mournful visions That can nevermore depart Till that heart has ceased its throbbing In the sorrow-laden breast, And the visions of the vanished Are forevermore at rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOCKED OUT; AS TOLD TO A CHILD by ROBERT FROST THEY HAVEN'T HEARD THE WEST IS OVER by JAMES GALVIN ENVOYS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE RETURN (2) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO OUR MOCKING-BIRD; DIED OF A CAT, MAY, 1878 by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: BARRETT BAYS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |