I've stalked by moonlight through deserted halls;
And when the weary world was sunk to rest,
I've had such sights—as may not be expressed.
"Lo! that chateau, the western tower decayed,
The peasants shun it, they are all afraid;
For there was done a deed! could walls reveal
Or timbers tell it, how the heart would feel.
Most horrid was it:—for, behold the floor
Has stains of blood, and will be clean no more.
Hark to the winds! which, through the wide saloon,