The instruments left hanging in the hall,
untouched for years, were once given to see
a flame within a shivering heart: but see
also the dust that sheathes all in this hall,
and know that such a story, never told,
must needs be true, and if these songs were sung
in ages long gone by they too were sung
to try to melt a heart love never told:
thus since that heart was never caused to dance,
so have those memories of moments gone,
and in recalling one old waltz they dance
a mist that long has cleared and gone.
If time were slow to leave they could have stayed –
but from this nothing they could not have strayed.