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The palace of echoes.
Mantled and dumb, a ghostly rout
Wheels through the chambers, in and out;
Now in the cumbrous robes of sadness,
Now crowned, and flushed with festal madness.
Wheels through the chambers, in and out;
Now in the cumbrous robes of sadness,
Now crowned, and flushed with festal madness.
Tread light above the sounding floor,
Along the dark, still corridors,
For they whose look is death, 'tis said,
Lie chained below in dungeons dread.
Along the dark, still corridors,
For they whose look is death, 'tis said,
Lie chained below in dungeons dread.
No daybeam breaks the purple gloom
That shrouds and fills yon inner room.
Dropt from the lintel to the floor,
Thick draperies cloak the low-arched door.
That shrouds and fills yon inner room.
Dropt from the lintel to the floor,
Thick draperies cloak the low-arched door.
With veiled brows, a spectral band,
Within, a few pale masquers stand;
Echoes that haunt the palace halls
Beat with faint wings the outer walls.
Within, a few pale masquers stand;
Echoes that haunt the palace halls
Beat with faint wings the outer walls.
