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.