I watch them come; by two by three by four
Advancing slow with loutings they begin
Their woven measure widening from the door;
While music-men behind are straddling in
With flutes1 to brisk their feet across the floor
And jangled dulcimers and fiddles2 thin
That taunt3 the twirling antic through once more.
They pause and hushed to whispers steal away.
With cunning glances; silent go their shoon
On creakless stairs; but far away the dogs
Bark at some lonely farm: and haply they
Have clambered back into the dusky moon
That sinks beyond the marshes4 loud with frogs.