Who is the shroudy stranger of the night,
Whose brow is mouldering green, whose reddened eye
Hides near the window trellis in dim light,
And gapes at old men, and makes children cry?
Who is the laughing walker of the street,
The alley mummy, stinking of the bone,
To dance unfixed, thought bound in shadow feet,
Behind the child that creeps on legs of stone?
Who is the hungry mocker of the maze,
And haggard gate-ghost, hanging by the door,
The double mummer in whose hooded gaze
World has beckoned unto world once more?