Those bright looks have left no token—
Not one trace on all the earth,
Save her memory of their mirth.
She is lone and lingering now,
Dreams have gather’d o’er her brow,
Midst gay songs and children’s play,
She is dwelling far away,
Seeing what none else may see—
Haunted still her place must be!
[“Mrs Hemans resided in the immediate vicinity of this old house (in the village of Wavertree) for nearly three years’: it (Wavertree Hall) suggested her beautiful poem, ‘Books and Flowers;’ and one of her most exquisite lyrics, ‘The Haunted House,’ describes its local scenery, and gives ‘a brief abstract’ of the sufferings and feelings of one of its inhabitants.”—Recollections of Mrs Hemans, by Mrs Lawrence.