The Fearful Traveller in the Haunted Castle

Oft do I hear those windows ope

And shut with dread surprise,

And spirits murmur as they grope,

But break not on the eyes.

Still fancy spies the winding sheet,

The phantom and the shroud,

And bids the pulse of horror beat

Throughout my ears aloud.

Some unknown finger thumps the door,

From one of faltering voice,

Till some one seems to walk the floor

With an alarming noise.

The drum of horror holds her sound,

Which will not let me sleep,

When ghastly breezes float around,

And hidden goblins creep.

The Fearful Traveller in the Haunted Castle

Methinks I hear some constant groan,

The din of all the dead,

While trembling thus I lie alone,

Upon this restless bed.

At length the blaze of morning broke

On my impatient view,

And truth or fancy told the joke,

And bade the night adieu.

'Twas but the noise of prowling rats,

Which ran with all their speed,

Pursued in haste by hungry cats,

Which on the vermin feed.

The cat growl'd as she held her prey,

Which shriek'd with all its might,

And drove the balm of sleep away

Throughout the live-long night.

The Fearful Traveller in the Haunted Castle

Those creatures crumbling off the cheese

Which on the table lay;

Some cats, too quick the rogues to seize,

With rumbling lost their prey.

Thus man is often his own elf,

Who makes the night his ghost,

And shrinks with horror from himself,

Which is to fear the most.