"We caught the tread of dancing feet,
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.
We loitered down the moonlit street,
And stopped beneath the harlot's house.
.
.
We watched the ghostly dancers spin
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.
To sound of horn and violin,
Like black leaves wheeling in the wind.
.
.
Sometimes a horrible marionette
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.
Came out, and smoked its cigarette
Upon the steps like a live thing.
Then, turning to my love, I said,
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust.'
'The dead are dancing with the dead,
The dust is whirling with the dust.'
But she--she heard the violin,
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust."
And left my side, and entered in:
Love passed into the house of lust."
- the Harlot's House
Oscar Wilde
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