Goblin
Revel
In gold and grey, with
fleering looks of sin,
I watch them come; by two,
by three, by four,
Advancing slow, with
loutings they begin
Their woven measure,
widening from the door;
While music-men behind are
straddling in
With flutes to brisk their
feet across the floor,—
And jangled dulcimers, and
fiddles thin
That taunt the twirling
antic through once more.
They pause, and hushed to
whispers, steal away.
With cunning glances; silent
go their shoon
On creakless stairs; but far
away the dogs
Bark at some lonely farm:
and haply they
Have clambered back into the
dusky moon
That sinks beyond the
marshes loud with frogs.
--Siegfried Sassoon
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