AS I between the dusk and dark Walked down by Hampton Towers, I strayed upon the haunted path In the forbidden hours. I paced the long and lonesome way In meditation deep, And there I saw a little maid Who bitterly did weep. Quaint was her silken robe and flowed In some disorder down, And on her slender shoulders fell Her locks of tangled brown. "Too late! Too late!" she weeping cried, Her voice was like the wind— She passed and wrung her lily hands And left me far behind. A maid distraught indeed was she Her anguish all confessed— In the sharp sighing that flew forth From out her heaving breast. When she had gone an echo flew Across the haunted bower; "Too late! Too late!" the whisper came From ev'ry sleeping flower. I met a youth upon the path And bade him tell to me If he had seen the little maid Who wept so dolefully. Upon his cheek the ruddy rose Swift faded into white, "God pity you, for you have seen The wailing ghost this night. "Pray, pray," he cried, "and shrive your soul, And so avert your fate," And as he flew me swift in fear A whisper cried "Too late!" An evil prayer rose to my lip "Lord! This my soul's relief, To hold her slender hands in mine, And know her secret grief," | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OLD FOLKS AT HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER A SHORT SONG OF CONGRATULATION by SAMUEL JOHNSON (1709-1784) SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ANNE RUTLEDGE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LAUGHING CORN by CARL SANDBURG THE INTRODUCTION by AL-DHAHABI LOVES ADVENTURE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |