epitaph

Could we go to the party?
Could we go to the hall?
Where he washed her hair and
Watched it fall.

Could we walk by the room glazed,
Where the grey geese are jotting
Past green things ribbon tied
And the small people totting?

Could we find the mutton-boy
Stained pants and leaning
Against a wooden column
Barkless and teaming?

And the girl dancing through
In her bright napkin dress.
A portion to keep,
And a portion for the dreaming.