The key will stammer, and the door reply, The hall wake, yawn, and smile; the torpid stair Will grumble at our feet, the table cry: 'Fetch my belongings for me; I am bare.' A clatter! Something in the attic falls. A ghost has lifted up his robes and fled. The loitering shadows move along the walls; Then silence very slowly lifts his head. The starling with impatient screech has flown The chimney, and is watching from the tree. They thought us gone for ever: mouse alone Stops in the middle of the floor to see. Now all you idle things, resume your toil. Hearth, put your flames on. Sulky kettle, boil. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MILITARY MIND by CHARLIE SMITH THE FAIRIES by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN: THE SECOND DAY: LADY WENTWORTH by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW REUBEN BRIGHT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by JOHN WILMOT |