THE SORROWFUL MASQUERADE

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Even as to a music, stately and sad,
The young girl’s feet begin to move in a dance,
And curiously, for joy, shift and advance;
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;
And mocks her tears. But when the pipings sleep,
She needs must cover up her face and weep.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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