THE house is haunted; when the little feet br Go pattering about it in their play, br I tremble lest the little one should meet br The ghosts that haunt the happy night and day. br br br And yet I think they only come to me; br They come through night of ease and pleasant day br To whisper of the torment that must be br If I some day should be, alas! as they. br br br And when the child is lying warm asleep, br The ghosts draw back the curtain of my bed, br And past them through the dreadful dark I creep, br Clasp close the child, and so am comforted.