THE HAUNTED HOUSE <br />How loud the storm blew all that bitter night! <br />The loosened ivy tapping on the pane <br />Woke me and woke, again and yet again, <br />Till I was full awake and sat upright. <br />I listened to the noises of the night, <br />And presently I heard, disguised yet plain, <br />A footstep on the stair which mounted light <br />Towards me, and my heart outbeat the rain. <br />I knew that it was you. I knew it even <br />Before the door, which by design ajar <br />Waited your coming, had disclosed my fate. <br />I felt a wind upon my face from heaven. <br />I felt the presence of a life. My hair <br />Was touched as by a spirit. Insensate <br />I drew you to my bosom. Ah, too late! <br />I clutched the darkness. There was nothing there.<br /><br />Wilfrid Scawen Blunt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-love-sonnets-of-proteus-part-iii-gods-and-false-gods-lix/
