The Baronet’s Regret

 

I built this house of stone and lime
To stand against the tide of time,
To keep the common world away
From where my gentle daughter lay.
I saw the way he looked at her—
That digging boy, that common cur—
And so I swore by oath and blood
To crush their passion in the mud.

I did not mean for her to stray
Beyond the light of common day.
I set the trap for coarser feet,
Where garden paths and thickets meet.
But God, the sound of metal bone!
A sound that turned my heart to stone.
I found her there, my only child,
By my own cleverness defiled.

The halls are silent, cold, and wide,
With nowhere left for me to hide.
For though I buried her with grace,
I still see Anna's phantom face.
She does not speak, she does not cry,
She only watches as I die,
A prisoner in the house I made,
Haunted by the trap I laid.