  AT dinner she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost. With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball: It is in truth a most contagious game; Hiding the Skeleton shall be its name. Such play as this the devils might appal! But here’s the greater wonder, in that we, Enamour’d of our acting and our wits, Admire each other like true hypocrites. Warm-lighted glances, Love’s ephemerÆ, Shoot gayly o’er the dishes and the wine. We waken envy of our happy lot. Fast, sweet, and golden shows our marriage knot. Dear guests, you now have seen Love’s corpse-light shine! George Meredith. |
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