"I hear the piano playing -
      Just as a ghost might play."
"- O, but what are you saying?
      There's no piano today;
Their old one was sold and broken,
      Years past it went amiss."
"- I heard it, or shouldn't have spoken:
      A strange house, this!

I catch some undertone here,
      From someone out of sight."
"Impossible; we are alone here,
      And shall be through the night."

"-The parlour-door - what stirred it?"
      "No one: no soul's in range."
"-But anyhow, I heard it,
      And it seems strange!

Seek my own room I cannot -
      A figure is on the stair!"
"-What figure? Nay, I scan not
      Anyone lingering there."

A bough outside is waving,
      And that's its shade by the moon."
"-Well, all is strange! I am craving
      Strength to leave soon."

"-Ah, may be you've some vision
      Of showings, beyond our sphere;
Some sight, sense, intuition
      Of what once happened here?
The house is old; they've hinted
      It once held two love-thralls,
And they may have imprinted
      Their dreams on its walls?

They were - think, 'twas told me -
      Queen in their works and ways;
The teller would often hold me
      With weird tales of those days.
Some folks cannot abide here,
      But we - we do not care
Who loved, laughed, wept, or died here,
      Knew joy, or despair."