How loud the storm sounds round the Hall!
From arch to arch, from door to door,
Pillar and roof and granite wall
Rock like a cradle in its roar.

That elm tree by the haunted well
Greets no returning summer skies:
Down with a rush the giant fell,
And stretched athwart the path it lies.

Hardly had passed the funeral train,
So long delayed by wind and snow;
And how they'll reach the house again
To-morrow's dawn perhaps will show.