Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/71

 So that she scarce can breathe — so fast
 * Her pent up heart doth beat —

When, faint along the corridor,
 * Falleth the sound of feet: —

Sounds lighter than silk slippers make
 * Upon a ballroom floor, when sweet

Violin and 'cello wake
 * Music for twirling feet.

O! 'neath an old unfriendly roof,
 * What shapes may not conceal

Their faces in the open day,
 * At night abroad to steal?

Even her taper seems with fear
 * To languish small and blue;

Far in the woods the winter wind
 * Runs whistling through,

A dreadful cold plucks at each hair,
 * Her mouth is stretched to cry,

But sudden, with a gush of joy,
 * It narrows to a sigh.

It is a phantom child which comes
 * Soft through the corridor,

Singing an old forgotten song,
 * This ancient burden bore: —