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THE HAUNTED PALACE.

i. In the greenest of our valleys

By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace —

Radiant palace — reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion —

It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion

Over fabric half so fair!

II.

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-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting

(Porphyrogene !)
In state his glory well befitting,

The ruler of the realm was seen.

rv.

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,

Assailed 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 blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story

Of the old time entombed.

VI.

And travellers, now, within that valley,

Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically

To a discordant melody;
While, like a ghastly rapid river,

Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out for ever,

And laugh—but smile no more.

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Thou would'st be loved ?— then let thy heart

From its present pathway part not! Being everything which now thou art,

Be nothing which thou art not. So with the world thy gentle ways,

Thy grace, thy more than beauty, Shall be an endless theme of praise,

And love—a simple duty.

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Hear the sledges with the bells—
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle

D

With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

ii.

Hear the mellow wedding bells,

Golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!

Through the balmy air of night

How they ring out their delight!

From the molten-golden notes,

And all in tune, What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats On the moon! Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! how it tells Of the rapture that impels To the swinging and the ringing Of the bells, bells, bells,

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