THE HAUNTED CHAPEL.
N a dim old chesnut forest,Far from the city's din,
Stands a long-deserted chapel—
So does my lay begin.
The walls with age are crumbling,
With moss and lichen wed
To mouldy crust between the chinks—
All else save this is dead.
With moss and lichen wed
To mouldy crust between the chinks—
All else save this is dead.
A hundred years and more have past,
Since censers here have swung,
Or chant or benison has been said,
Or Vesper bell been rung.
Since censers here have swung,
Or chant or benison has been said,
Or Vesper bell been rung.
A hundred years since the vigil lamp
Before the Virgin gleamed,
1lluming the ancient picture,
Now mildewed, stained, and seamed.
Before the Virgin gleamed,
1lluming the ancient picture,
Now mildewed, stained, and seamed.
