The Palace of the Dead
Sometimes, when music sounds,
Towards some strange palace I am led
Where meet, methinks, the dead:
I travel through enchanted grounds.
Within those palace-walls, bright-eyed,
They dance, converse, — as love or music leads
But I, within the darkness, left outside,
Shiver, and hear the hoarse wind through the reeds.
Towards some strange palace I am led
Where meet, methinks, the dead:
I travel through enchanted grounds.
Within those palace-walls, bright-eyed,
They dance, converse, — as love or music leads
But I, within the darkness, left outside,
Shiver, and hear the hoarse wind through the reeds.
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