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Updated: June 17, 2025
This house is dark and dull and drear No light doth shine from far or near Nor ever could. And those of us who live herein Are most as dead as seraphim Though not as good. My guardian angel is asleep At least he doth no vigil keep But far doth roam. Then give me back my lonely farm Where none alive did wish me harm, Dear childhood home! Dear Mother, I am thrilling with unhappyness this morning.
This house is dark and dull and drear No light doth shine from far or near Nor ever could. And those of us who live herein Are most as dead as seraphim Though not as good. My guardian angel is asleep At least he doth no vigil keep But far doth roam. Then give me back my lonely farm Where none alive did wish me harm, Dear childhood home! DEAR MOTHER, I am thrilling with unhappyness this morning.
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