Each heart has its haunted chamber
Where the silent moonlight falls!
On the floor are mysterious footsteps
There are whispers along the walls!

And mine at times is haunted
By phantoms of the Past
As motionless as shadows
By the silent moonlight cast

A form sits by the window
That is not seen by day
For as soon as the dawn approaches
It vanishes away

It sits there in the moonlight
Itself as pale and still
And points with its airy finger
Across the window-sill

Without before the window
There stands a gloomy pine
Whose boughs wave upward and downward
As wavе these thoughts of mine

And undеrneath its branches
Is the grave of a little child
Who died upon life’s threshold
And never wept nor smiled
What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
That haunt my troubled brain?
That vanish when day approaches
And at night return again?

What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
But the statues without breath
That stand on the bridge overarching
The silent river of death?