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Lords shunned from their thrones

Hidden in solitary castles of their own

Where dwelt a man, whose fortress stood

In the hushed twilight of a lineage cursed

A proud memorial honoured past

Many tales of strangeness have been said

Bowed throughout years, blind eyes and closed doors

The fear of death is their great companion

Crossed themselves to see the change

Those subtle slanders, with downcast face

A muffled voice, sing the tales no men may trace

Within the room where the morning sunshine gleams

Whilst the poor youth recalls the troubled dreams

While the gloomy spirits seem to rise

As the world beholds with clearering eyes

With a brighter and a blacker heart

That nor sense or measure can confine