《Impartiality》 - 免费有声读物

THE HAUNTED PALACE

               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!

               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 odor 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.

               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.

               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 forever
                    And laugh—but smile no more.