When she returned to London, earlier Than was her custom, in the following year, She found her home a desert, dark and gaunt; L. House looked emptier, gloomier than its wont. Griselda sighed, for on the table lay Two letters, which announced each in its way The expected tidings of her sisters' joy. Either was brought to bed--and with a boy. Her generous heart leaped forth to these in vain, It could not cheat a first sharp touch of pain, But yielded to its sorrow. That same night, Lord L., whose sleep was neither vexed nor light, And who for many years had ceased to dream, Beheld a vision. Slowly he became Aware of a strange light which in his eyes Shone to his vast discomfort and surprise; And, while perplexed with vague mistrusts and fears, He saw a face, Griselda's face, in tears Before him. She was standing by his bed Holding a candle. It was cold, she said, And shivered. And he saw her wrap her shawl About her shoulders closely like a pall. Why was she there? Why weeping? Why this light, Burning so brightly in the dead of night? These riddles poor Lord L.'s half-wakened brain Tried dimly to resolve, but tried in vain. "I cannot sleep to-night," went on the voice, "The streets disturb me strangely with their noise, The cabs, the striking clocks." Lord L.'s distress Struggled with sleep. He thought he answered "Yes." "What can I do to make me sleep? I am ill, Unnerv'd to-night. This house is like a well. Do I disturb you here, and shall I go?" Lord L. was moved. He thought he answered "No." "If you would speak, perhaps my tears would stop. Speak! only speak!" Lord L. here felt a drop Upon his hand. She had put down the light, And sat upon his bed forlornly white And pale and trembling. Her dark hair unbound Lay on her knees. Her lips moved, but their sound Came strangely to his ears and half-unheard. He only could remember the last word: "I am unhappy--listen L.!--alone." She touched his shoulder and he gave a groan. "This is too much. You do not hear me. See, I cannot stop these tears. Too much!" And he Now well awake, looked round him. He could catch A gleam of light just vanished, and the latch Seemed hardly silent. This was all he knew. He sat some moments doubting what to do, Rose, went out, shivered, hearing nothing, crept Back to his pillow, where the vision wept Or seemed to weep awhile ago, and then With some disquiet went to sleep again.