Goblin revel

In gold and grey, with fleering looks of sin,

I watch them come; by two, by three, by four,

Advancing slow, with loutings they begin

Their woven measure, widening from the door;

While music-men behind are straddling in

With flutes to brisk their feet across the floor, --

And jangled dulcimers, and fiddles thin

That taunt the twirling antic through once more.

They pause, and hushed to whispers, steal away.

With cunning glances; silent go their shoon

On creakless stairs; but far away the dogs

Bark at some lonely farm: and haply they

Have clambered back into the dusky moon

That sinks beyond the marshes loud with frogs.