A MASKED BALL.
There, in the music strangely met,
From lands and ages wide apart,
They came, like ghosts remembering yet
The old sweet yearning of the heart.
From lands and ages wide apart,
They came, like ghosts remembering yet
The old sweet yearning of the heart.
What sad and shining names were heard!
What stories swept the dust, like trains!
What minster-buried echoes stirred!
What backward splendours, backward stains!
What stories swept the dust, like trains!
What minster-buried echoes stirred!
What backward splendours, backward stains!
Still two by two, as moved by fate,
They came from silence and from song;
The tyranny of love or hate
With that mock-pageant passed along.
They came from silence and from song;
The tyranny of love or hate
With that mock-pageant passed along.
There kings and cardinals long gone
Forgot their feuds, and joined the dance.
His Holiness himself looked on,
With something merry in his glance.
Forgot their feuds, and joined the dance.
His Holiness himself looked on,
With something merry in his glance.
There, priestly, yet not loth to please,
Stood Abelard; by some sad whim,
In convent coif, poor Héloise
Was near, confessing—what—to him.
Stood Abelard; by some sad whim,
In convent coif, poor Héloise
Was near, confessing—what—to him.
