All around the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, And it moves with the moving flame. Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum, With the breath of the Bogies in my hair; And all around the candle and the crooked shadows come, And go marching along up the stair. The shadow of the balusters, the shadow of the lamp, The shadow of the child that goes to bed -- All the wicked shadows coming tramp, tramp, tramp, With the black night overhead. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER NOTHING WILL CURE THE SICK LION BUT TO EAT AN APE' by MARIANNE MOORE ERASMUS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE TOWER OF SKULLS by ISAAC ROSENBERG TIME, REAL AND IMAGINARY; AN ALLEGORY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TO A DOG'S MEMORY by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 109 by PHILIP SIDNEY THE MYSTIC TRUMPETER by WALT WHITMAN TO BARON DE STONNE WITH AIKIN'S ESSAYS ON SONG-WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |