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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Where a faint light shines alone, Dwells a Demon I have known. Most of you had better say "The Dark House," and go your way. Do not wonder if I stay. For I know the Demon's eyes And their lure that never dies. Banish all your fond alarms, For I know the foiling charms Of her eyes and of her arms, And I know that in one room Burns a lamp as in a tomb; And I see the shadow glide, Back and forth, of one denied Power to find herself outside. There he is who was my friend, Damned, he fancies, to the end-- Vanquished, ever since a door Closed, he thought, for evermore On the life that was before. And the friend who knows him best Sees him as he sees the rest Who are striving to be wise While a Demon's arms and eyes Hold them as a web would flies. All the words of all the world, Aimed together, and then hurled, Would be stiller in his ears Than a closing of still shears On a thread made out of years. But there lives another sound, More compelling, more profound; There's a music, so it seems, That assuages and redeems, More than reason, more than dreams. There's a music yet unheard By the creature of the word, Though it matters little more Than a wave-wash on the shore-- Till a Demon shuts a door. So, if he be very still With his Demon, and one will, Murmurs of it may be blown To my friend who is alone In a room that I have known. After that from everywhere Singing life will find him there; And my friend, again outside, Will be living, having died.
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