Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/76

 Of all the many of those who danced and sang

And celebrated, there was none to note

A silent entrance of the most abhorred

And oldest of all uninvited strangers—

A lean and slinking mute with a bassoon,

Who seized attention when a languid hush

Betrayed a perilous rift of weariness

Where pleasure was not joy, and blew a tune

Of hollow triumph on a chilly reed

From which all shrank. The tumult after that

Was an unprized expenditure of beauty

Awaiting doom. It was awaiting also

The faint approach of slow, infernal drums

That were not long in coming, bringing with them

A singing horde of demons, men and women,

Who filled the temple with offensive yells

And sang to flight the frightened worshippers.