Speechless sorrow sat with me;
I was sighing wearily;
Lamp and fire were out; the rain
Wildly beat the window-pane.
In the dark I heard a knock,
And a hand was on the lock;
One in waiting spake to me,
  Saying sweetly,
“I am come to sup with thee.”

All my room was dark and damp:
“Sorrow,” said I, “trim the lamp,...