At The Piano

A woman was playing,

A man looking on;

And the mould of her face,

And her neck, and her hair,

Which the rays fell upon

Of the two candles there,

Sent him mentally straying

In some fancy-place

Where pain had no trace.

A cowled Apparition

Came pushing between;

And her notes seemed to sigh,

And the lights to burn pale,

As a spell numbed the scene.

But the maid saw no bale,

And the man no monition;

And Time laughed awry,

And the Phantom hid nigh.

-o0o-