Through snowy woods and shady We went to play a tune To the lonely manor-lady By the light of the Christmas moon.
We violed till, upward glancing To where a mirror leaned, We saw her airily dancing, Deeming her movements screened;
Dancing alone in the room there, Thin-draped in her robe of night;
Her postures, glassed in the gloom there, Were a strange phantasmal sight.
She had learnt (we heard when homing)
That her roving spouse was dead;
Why she had danced in the gloaming We thought, but never said.
