The House on the Hill

They are all gone away,
The house is shut and still:
There is nothing more to say.

Malign them as we may,
We cannot do them ill:
They are all gone away.

Are we more fit than they
To meet the Master's will?--
There is nothing more to say.

What matters it who 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.

BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON