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.