216 The River Inn

THE NIGHT was black and drear

Of the last day of the year.

Two guests to the river inn

Came, from the wide world’s bound—

One with clangor and din,

The other without a sound.

“Now hurry, servants and host!

Get the best that your cellars boast.

White be the sheets and fine,

And the fire on the hearthstone bright;

Pile the wood, and spare not the wine,

And call him at morning light.”

“But where is the silent guest?

In what chamber shall she rest?

In this! Should she not go higher?

’T is damp, and the fire is gone.

“You need not kindle the fire,

You need not call her at dawn.”

Next morn he sallied forth

On his journey to the North.

Oh, bright the sunlight shone

Through boughs that the breezes stir;

But for her was lifted a stone

Under the churchyard fir.