The shades of evening lengthen, — let us close

The shades of evening lengthen, — let us close
The latticed window, and draw down the blind;
These shadows seem as spirits, and the wind
Moans in its wandering; mournfully it goes
As some poor soul that grievous sorrow knows,
Or homeward traveller fearful lest he find
Beside his hearth the doom that haunts his mind,
And o'er his pathway its grim visage shows.
As haunted houses are our haunted hearts,
Wherein pale spirits of past sorrows dwell!
Wherein, as players that play many parts,
Presentiments their tragic tales foretell!
Draw close the curtain,— ay, shut out the night;
The night is dark, let love then be our light.