The House Of Fear

Vast are its halls, as vast the halls and lone
  Where DEATH stalks listening to the wind and rain;
  And dark that house, where I shall meet again
  My long-dead Sin in some dread way unknown;
  For I have dreamed of stairs of haunted stone,
  And spectre footsteps I have fled in vain;
  And windows glaring with a blood-red stain,
  And horrible eyes, that burn me to the bone,
  Within a face that looks as that black night
  It looked when deep I dug for it a grave,--
  The dagger wound above the brow, the thin
  Blood trickling down slantwise the ghastly white;--
  And I have dreamed not even GOD can save
  Me and my soul from that risen Sin.