第11章 THE PHANTOM BALL

You remember the hall on the corner?

To-night as I walked down street I heard the sound of music, And the rhythmic beat and beat, In time to the pulsing measure Of lightly tripping feet.

And I turned and entered the doorway -

It was years since I had been there -

Years, and life seemed altered:

Pleasure had changed to care.

But again I was hearing the music And watching the dancers fair.

And then, as I stood and listened, The music lost its glee;And instead of the merry waltzers There were ghosts of the Used-to-be -Ghosts of the pleasure-seekers Who once had danced with me.

Oh, 'twas a ghastly picture!

Oh, 'twas a gruesome crowd!

Each bearing a skull on his shoulder, Each trailing a long white shroud, As they whirled in the dance together, And the music shrieked aloud.

As they danced, their dry bones rattled Like shutters in a blast;And they stared from eyeless sockets On me as they circled past;And the music that kept them whirling Was a funeral dirge played fast.

Some of them wore their face-cloths, Others were rotted away.

Some had mould on their garments, And some seemed dead but a day.

Corpses all, but I knew them As friends, once blithe and gay.

Beauty and strength and manhood -

And this was the end of it all:

Nothing but phantoms whirling In a ghastly skeleton ball.

But the music ceased--and they vanished, And I came away from the hall.