THE HAUNTED PALACE.
BY E. A. POE.
IN the greenest of our valleys,
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace
(Snow-white palace) reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair.
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow;
(This, all this, was in the olden
Time long ago.)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odour went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley
Through two luminous windows saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tunéd law;
Round about a throne, where, sitting
In state his glory well befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen. [page
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace-door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things in robes of sorrow,
Assail'd the monarch's high estate;
(Ah! let us mourn, for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him, desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blush'd and bloom'd,
Is but a dim-remember'd story
Of the old time entomb'd.
And travellers now within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
While, like a rapid, ghastly river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever,
And laugh — but smile no more.