The Home on the Hill


    By Edward Arlington Robinson


    They are all gone away,


    The house is shut and still,


    There is nothing more to say


    Through broken walls and gray,


    The wind blows bleak and shrill,


    They are all gone away


    Nor is there one today,


    To speak them good or ill


    There is nothing more to say


    Why is it then we stray


    Around the sunken sill?


    They are all gone away


    And our poor fancy play


    For them is wasted skill,


    There is nothing more to say


    There is ruin and decay


    In the House on the Hill:


    They are all gone away,


    There is nothing more to say.