THE SORROWFUL MASQUERADE
Evenas to a music, stately and sad,The young girl’s feet begin to move in a dance,And curiously, for joy, shift and advance;So to a mournful waltz, sombre and sweet,All laughing things move with delightedfeet—So all things that draw light and laughing breathMove to the mournful waltz of life and death:Comedy is a girl dancing in timeTo the tragic pipes, sorrowful and sublime;And ever she laughs back, and as she skipsMimics the mournful music with her lips;Then, for sheer anger at her own pretense,Sobs violently at her own vehemence;And mocks her tears. But when the pipings sleep,She needs must cover up her face and weep.
Evenas to a music, stately and sad,The young girl’s feet begin to move in a dance,And curiously, for joy, shift and advance;So to a mournful waltz, sombre and sweet,All laughing things move with delightedfeet—So all things that draw light and laughing breathMove to the mournful waltz of life and death:Comedy is a girl dancing in timeTo the tragic pipes, sorrowful and sublime;And ever she laughs back, and as she skipsMimics the mournful music with her lips;Then, for sheer anger at her own pretense,Sobs violently at her own vehemence;And mocks her tears. But when the pipings sleep,She needs must cover up her face and weep.
Evenas to a music, stately and sad,The young girl’s feet begin to move in a dance,And curiously, for joy, shift and advance;So to a mournful waltz, sombre and sweet,All laughing things move with delightedfeet—So all things that draw light and laughing breathMove to the mournful waltz of life and death:Comedy is a girl dancing in timeTo the tragic pipes, sorrowful and sublime;And ever she laughs back, and as she skipsMimics the mournful music with her lips;Then, for sheer anger at her own pretense,Sobs violently at her own vehemence;And mocks her tears. But when the pipings sleep,She needs must cover up her face and weep.
Evenas to a music, stately and sad,
The young girl’s feet begin to move in a dance,
And curiously, for joy, shift and advance;
So to a mournful waltz, sombre and sweet,
All laughing things move with delightedfeet—
So all things that draw light and laughing breath
Move to the mournful waltz of life and death:
Comedy is a girl dancing in time
To the tragic pipes, sorrowful and sublime;
And ever she laughs back, and as she skips
Mimics the mournful music with her lips;
Then, for sheer anger at her own pretense,
Sobs violently at her own vehemence;
And mocks her tears. But when the pipings sleep,
She needs must cover up her face and weep.