Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 31 1831.pdf/5



I seem like one Who treads alone Some banquet-hall deserted, Whose lights are fled, Whose garlands dead, And all but he, departed. .

thou yon grey gleaming hall, Where the deep elm-shadows fall! Voices that have left the earth Long ago, Still are murmuring round its hearth, Soft and low: Ever there:—yet one alone Hath the gift to hear their tone.