Children of the Night

The House on the Hill

     They are all gone away,
      The House is shut and still,
     There is nothing more to say.

     Through broken walls and gray
      The winds blow bleak and shrill:
     They are all gone away.

     Nor is there one to-day
      To speak them good or ill:
     There is nothing more to say.

     Why is it then we stray
      Around that sunken sill?
     They are all gone away,

     And our poor fancy-play
      For them is wasted skill:
     There is nothing more to say.

     There is ruin and decay
      In the House on the Hill:
     They are all gone away,
     There is nothing more to say.