The Harlot's House

　　We caught the tread of dancing feet，

　　We loitered down the moonlit street，

　　And stopped beneath the harlot's house.

　　Inside， above the din¹ and fray²，

　　We heard the loud musicians play

　　The 'Treues Liebes Herz' of Strauss.

　　Like strange mechanical grotesques³，

　　Making fantastic arabesques⁴，

　　The shadows raced across the blind.

　　We watched the ghostly dancers spin

　　To sound of horn and violin，

　　Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.

　　Like wire-pulled automatons⁵，

　　Slim silhouetted⁶ skeletons

　　Went sidling through the slow quadrille，

　　Then took each other by the hand，

　　And danced a stately saraband；

　　Their laughter echoed thin and shrill⁷.

　　Sometimes a clockwork puppet pressed

　　A phantom⁸ lover to her breast，

　　Sometimes they seemed to try to sing.

　　Sometimes a horrible marionette⁹

　　Came out， and smoked its cigarette

　　Upon the steps like a live thing.

　　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 lust¹⁰.

　　Then suddenly the tune¹¹ went false，

　　The dancers 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.