 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
125
THE 'BIDING CURSE.
Roofless and dreary the old pile has stood,
For many a weary year,
And it seemeth no home for aught of good,
But a haunt of gloom and fear.
For many a weary year,
And it seemeth no home for aught of good,
But a haunt of gloom and fear.
The bricks are crumbling one by one,
And the windows widely ope,
And sickly plants unguided run,
And round the dark walls grope.
And the windows widely ope,
And sickly plants unguided run,
And round the dark walls grope.
And children avoid it in their play,
As 't were a thing of fright;
Alone it stands in the glare of day,
And alone in the hush of night.
As 't were a thing of fright;
Alone it stands in the glare of day,
And alone in the hush of night.
And the door-sills are rotting the doors away,
Though they ne'er by foot are prest,
And the spider holds unchallenged sway,
With no hand to molest.
Though they ne'er by foot are prest,
And the spider holds unchallenged sway,
With no hand to molest.
And the spout hangs faint by a feeble nail,
And it utters a doleful cry,
As it feels the force of the passing gale,
Like one in his agony.
And it utters a doleful cry,
As it feels the force of the passing gale,
Like one in his agony.
126
How ghastly and white the moonbeams play
Around the old pile drear!
And the passer hastens upon his way,
With a feeling of pressing fear.
Around the old pile drear!
And the passer hastens upon his way,
With a feeling of pressing fear.
For the moonbeams white and the still midnight,
And the weakness of his heart,
Lead him to dread that elf or sprite
May out from the portal start.
And the weakness of his heart,
Lead him to dread that elf or sprite
May out from the portal start.
Ah! the bitter curse that the old man spoke
Is working its mission fell,
And the spirit of dread he dared invoke
Has woven his baleful spell.
Is working its mission fell,
And the spirit of dread he dared invoke
Has woven his baleful spell.
Nor prayers nor tears nor holy years
May move that fearful ban,
Where Desolation its form uprears,
And laughs at the fears of man.
May move that fearful ban,
Where Desolation its form uprears,
And laughs at the fears of man.
And where is the beautiful Geraldine now,
With her wealth of golden hair,—
And her eye of mirth, that made that hearth
With paradise compare?
With her wealth of golden hair,—
And her eye of mirth, that made that hearth
With paradise compare?
And where is the sordid wretch so cold,
Who won the charming maid,
And, all for the sake of her father's gold
Her guileless heart betrayed?
Who won the charming maid,
And, all for the sake of her father's gold
Her guileless heart betrayed?
127
Gone—all gone—and the glad home gone—
Decay on its hearthstone reigns;
The insatiate grave hath claimed its own,
But the living curse remains.
Decay on its hearthstone reigns;
The insatiate grave hath claimed its own,
But the living curse remains.
“That old house, there? Why, sir, you dream,
That 'ere 's a 'stillery old!
You may read on the fence, by the bright moonbeam,
That to-morrow 't is to be sold.”
That 'ere 's a 'stillery old!
You may read on the fence, by the bright moonbeam,
That to-morrow 't is to be sold.”
Thus fades!—O, plague on the plodding elf
That dared my dream profane;
I'll lay me by on some quiet shelf,
And try to dream again.
That dared my dream profane;
I'll lay me by on some quiet shelf,
And try to dream again.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |