Death's mansion
A ghost of laughter flows along the stairs
In the pale moonlight by the balustrade:
Echoes of mocking laughter stir the dust;
But otherwise the house lies desolate,
And only shafts of moonlight pass the panes
To fall among the shadows on the floor.
There are so many memories awake;
So many cobweb thoughts that shimmer down
The moonbeam ladders, or that stare
From the stone eyes of griffins by the wall.
No hand has ever pressed this oaken door,
Nor foot has trembled on the winding stair;
And yet the door is open to the wind,
And everyone who ever lived came here,
And not a soul was ever turned away.
Page(s) 39
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