Description
A Ballade Of Old Loves by Carolyn Wells Who is it stands on the polished stair, A merry, laughing, winsome maid, From the Christmas rose in her golden hair To the high-heeled slippers of spangled suède A glance, half daring and half afraid, Gleams from her roguish eyes downcast; Already the vision begins to fade- ‘Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. Who is it sits in that high-backed chair, Quaintly in ruff and patch arrayed, With a mockery gay of a stately air As she rustles the folds of her old brocade,- Merriest heart at the masquerade? Ah, but the picture is passing fast Back to the darkness from which it strayed- ‘Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. Who is it whirls in a ball-room’s glare, Her soft white hand on my shoulder laid, Like a radiant lily, tall and fair, While the violins in the corner played The wailing strains of the Serenade? Oh, lovely vision, too sweet to last- E’en now my fancy it will evade- ‘Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past. L’ENVOI Rosamond! look not so dismayed, All of my heart, dear love, thou hast Jealous, beloved? Of a shade?- ‘Tis only a ghost of a Christmas Past.
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