Classic Poem

Calm is the night, the streets are lonely;
My love dwelt here in this house of yore;
'Tis long since she left the city—only
The house still stands where it stood before.

There too stands a man staring up at the casement,
And he wrings his hands with the anguish he feels;
I look at his face with a shuddering amazement,
It is myself that the moon reveals!

Thou ghastly fellow, thou wraith, thou double!
How darest thou mimic the agony
Which on this spot racked my soul with trouble
Night after night in the time gone by?