Edwin Arlington Robinson (1869–1935). Collected Poems. 1921.
I. The Man Against the Sky18. The Dark House
W
Dwells a Demon I have known.
Most of you had better say
“The Dark House,” and go your way.
Do not wonder if I stay.
And their lure that never dies.
Banish all your fond alarms,
For I know the foiling charms
Of her eyes and of her arms,
Burns a lamp as in a tomb;
And I see the shadow glide,
Back and forth, of one denied
Power to find himself outside.
Damned, he fancies, to the end—
Vanquished, ever since a door
Closed, he thought, for evermore
On the life that was before.
Sees him as he sees the rest
Who are striving to be wise
While a Demon’s arms and eyes
Hold them as a web would flies.
Aimed together and then hurled,
Would be stiller in his ears
Than a closing of still shears
On a thread made out of years.
More compelling, more profound;
There’s a music, so it seems,
That assuages and redeems,
More than reason, more than dreams.
By the creature of the word,
Though it matters little more
Than a wave-wash on a shore—
Till a Demon shuts a door.
With his Demon, and one will,
Murmurs of it may be blown
To my friend who is alone
In a room that I have known.
Singing life will find him there;
Then the door will open wide,
And my friend, again outside,
Will be living, having died.