The Haunted Chamber Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Each heart has its haunted chamber,
         Where the silent moonlight falls!
On the floor are mysterious footsteps,
         There are whispers along the walls!

And mine at times is haunted
         By phantoms of the Past
As motionless as shadows
         By the silent moonlight cast.

A form sits by the window,
         That is not seen by day,
For as soon as the dawn approaches
         It vanishes away.

It sits there in the moonlight
         Itself as pale and still,
And points with its airy finger
         Across the window-sill.

Without before the window,
         There stands a gloomy pine,
Whose boughs wave upward and downward
         As wave these thoughts of mine.

And underneath its branches
         Is the grave of a little child,
Who died upon life's threshold,
         And never wept nor smiled.