THE HAUNTED HOUSE. A ROMANCE. PART I. SOME dreams we have are nothing else but dreams, Yet others of our most romantic schemes It might be only on enchanted ground; A residence for woman, child, and man, Unhinged the iron gates half open hung, No dog was at the threshold, great or small; Not one domestic feature. No human figure stirr'd, to go or come, No face look'd forth from shut or open casement; No chimney smoked-there was no sign of Home From parapet to basement. With shatter'd panes the grassy court was starr'd; The time-worn coping-stone had tumbled after ! And thro' the ragged roof the sky shone, barr'd With naked beam and rafter. O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear; The flow'r grew wild and rankly as the weed, But gay or gloomy, steadfast or infirm, No heart was there to heed the hour's duration; The wren had built within the Porch, she found The rabbit wild and gray, that flitted thro' The shrubby clumps, and frisk'd, and sat, and vanished But leisurely and bold, as if he knew His enemy was banish'd. The wary crow,-the pheasant from the woods- The coot was swimming in the reedy pond, The moping heron, motionless and stiff, No sound was heard except, from far away, But Echo never mock'd the human tongue; Some weighty crime, that Heaven could not pardon, And its deserted Garden. The beds were all untouch'd by hand or tool; The vine unpruned, and the neglected peach, Droop'd from the wall with which they used to grapple ; And on the kanker'd tree, in easy reach, Rotted the golden apple. But awfully the truant shunn'd the ground, For over all there hung a cloud of fear, The pear and quince lay squander'd on the grass; Of fruits, and weeds, and flowers! The marigold amidst the nettles blew, The gourd embraced the rose bush in its ramble, The thistle and the stock together grew, The holly-hock and bramble |