Seen By The Waits

Through snowy woods and shady We went to play a tune To the lonely manor-lady By the light of the Christmas moon. We violed till, upward glancing To where a mirror leaned, We saw her airily dancing, Deeming her movements screened; Dancing alone in the room there, Thin-draped in her robe of night; Her postures, glassed in the gloom there, Were a strange phantasmal sight. She had learnt (we heard when homing) That her roving spouse was dead; Why she had danced in the gloaming We thought, but never said.