He grounds his wreath, and enters in,
And sits, and shares their cheer.—
“I fain would foot with you, young man,
Before all others here;
I fain would foot it for a span
With such a cavalier!”
VI
She coaxes, clasps, nor fails to win
His first-unwilling hand:
The merry music strikes its staves,
The dancers quickly band;
And with the damsel of the graves
He duly takes his stand.
VII
“You dance divinely, stranger swain,
Such grace I’ve never known.
O longer stay! Breathe not adieu
And leave me here alone!
O longer stay: to her be true
Whose heart is all your own!”—
“I mark a phantom through the pane,
That beckons in despair,
Its mouth all drawn with heavy moan—
Her to whom once I sware!”—
“Nay; ’tis the lately carven stone
Of some strange girl laid there!”—
IX
“I see white flowers upon the floor
Betrodden to a clot;
My wreath were they?”—“Nay; love me much,
Swear you’ll forget me not!
’Twas but a wreath! Full many such
Are brought here and forgot.”