From The Lady Of The Manor

Next died the Lady who yon Hall possessed;

And here they brought her noble bones to rest.

In-Town she dwelt:- forsaken stood the Hall:

Worms ate the floors, the tapestry fled the wall:

No fire the kitchens cheerless grate displayed;

No cheerful light the long-closed sash conveyed;

The crawling worm, that turns a summer fly,

Here spun his shroud and laid him up to die

The winter-death:- upon the bed of sate,

The bat shrill-shrieking wooed his flickering mate;

To empty rooms, the curious came no more,

From empty cellars turned the angry poor,

And surely beggars cursed the ever-bolted door.