Children of the Night

Ballade by the Fire

     Slowly I smoke and hug my knee,
      The while a witless masquerade
     Of things that only children see
      Floats in a mist of light and shade:
      They pass, a flimsy cavalcade,
     And with a weak, remindful glow,
      The falling embers break and fade,
     As one by one the phantoms go.

     Then, with a melancholy glee
      To think where once my fancy strayed,
     I muse on what the years may be
      Whose coming tales are all unsaid,
      Till tongs and shovel, snugly laid
     Within their shadowed niches, grow
      By grim degrees to pick and spade,
     As one by one the phantoms go.

     But then, what though the mystic Three
      Around me ply their merry trade? —
     And Charon soon may carry me
      Across the gloomy Stygian glade? —
      Be up, my soul! nor be afraid
     Of what some unborn year may show;
      But mind your human debts are paid,
     As one by one the phantoms go.

         ENVOY

     Life is the game that must be played:
      This truth at least, good friend, we know;
     So live and laugh, nor be dismayed
      As one by one the phantoms go.