Classic Poem

Was that a knock at the door?
And who should knock at this hour —
Or, for the matter of that, at any hour at all?
Never since ... well, you know what, has anyone paid us a call;
And, for all of the neighbours we see, we might live in the lighthouse-tower.

Was that a knock at the door?
Something's gone wrong in your head;
Or, happen, you're hearing a rat that's scrabbling about in the wall.
Though nothing was proven against us, since dad was missing last fall,
Folk have kept clear of the house, as though 'twere the house of the dead.

Ay, there's a knock at the door!
Nay, mother, what are you about!
Let me go, daughter, I say!
It's Dobbin that stamps in his stall,
Or a bough that taps on another.
He dropt in a heap by the wall.
And, day and night since, I've been hearkening, and hearkening for nothing at all
But the rap of a dead man's knuckles, knocking to summon me out.