So to a mournful waltz, sombre and sweet,
All laughing things move with delighted feet—
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;