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OLD MANSION

by Janette Lueveen

Somewhere in your town
On some high hill
Survives an old mansion
Shuttered and still

Symbol of prestige
Symbol of power
Who now remembers,
Its finest hour?

Wooden shingles in tatters
No longer shelter a storm
Floors of the ballroom
Are sagging and worn

Where is the man
Who owned this splendor?
Hard was the heart
He refused to surrender

Of what value his name,
He so proudly wore?
Gone is the applause
He’ll hear it no more

A grave so deep
With a monument so tall
Wealth now worthless
Even the proud must fall!

When the trumpet sounds
And he awakens from the grave
Will he inherit a new mansion,
or forever be Satan’s slave?

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