THE SPECTRE
IN cloudy quiet of the day,While thrush and robin perched mute on spray,A spectre by the window sat,Brooding thereat.He marked the greenness of the Spring,Daffodil blowing, bird a-wing—Yet dark the house the years had madeWithin that Shade.Blinded the rooms wherein no foot falls.Faded the portraits on the walls.Reverberating, shakes the airA river there.Coursing in flood, its infinite roars;From pit to pit its water pours;And he, with countenance unmoved,Hears cry:—'Beloved,'Oh, ere the day be utterly spent,Return, return, from banishment.The night thick-gathers. Weep a prayerFor the true and fair.'
IN cloudy quiet of the day,While thrush and robin perched mute on spray,A spectre by the window sat,Brooding thereat.He marked the greenness of the Spring,Daffodil blowing, bird a-wing—Yet dark the house the years had madeWithin that Shade.Blinded the rooms wherein no foot falls.Faded the portraits on the walls.Reverberating, shakes the airA river there.Coursing in flood, its infinite roars;From pit to pit its water pours;And he, with countenance unmoved,Hears cry:—'Beloved,'Oh, ere the day be utterly spent,Return, return, from banishment.The night thick-gathers. Weep a prayerFor the true and fair.'
IN cloudy quiet of the day,While thrush and robin perched mute on spray,A spectre by the window sat,Brooding thereat.
IN cloudy quiet of the day,
While thrush and robin perched mute on spray,
A spectre by the window sat,
Brooding thereat.
He marked the greenness of the Spring,Daffodil blowing, bird a-wing—Yet dark the house the years had madeWithin that Shade.
He marked the greenness of the Spring,
Daffodil blowing, bird a-wing—
Yet dark the house the years had made
Within that Shade.
Blinded the rooms wherein no foot falls.Faded the portraits on the walls.Reverberating, shakes the airA river there.
Blinded the rooms wherein no foot falls.
Faded the portraits on the walls.
Reverberating, shakes the air
A river there.
Coursing in flood, its infinite roars;From pit to pit its water pours;And he, with countenance unmoved,Hears cry:—'Beloved,
Coursing in flood, its infinite roars;
From pit to pit its water pours;
And he, with countenance unmoved,
Hears cry:—'Beloved,
'Oh, ere the day be utterly spent,Return, return, from banishment.The night thick-gathers. Weep a prayerFor the true and fair.'
'Oh, ere the day be utterly spent,
Return, return, from banishment.
The night thick-gathers. Weep a prayer
For the true and fair.'