The Harlot's House

Then, turning to my love, I said,

"The dead are dancing with the dead,

The dust is whirling with the dust."

But she—she heard the violin,

And left my side, and entered in:

Love passed into the house of lust.

Then suddenly the tune went false,

The shadows wearied of the waltz,

The shadows ceased to wheel and whirl.

And down the long and silent street,

The dawn, with silver-sandalled feet,

Crept like a frightened girl.