Poplars are standing there still as death ; and ghosts of
deadmen meet their ladies walking two by two beneath the shade
andstanding on the marble steps. there is a sound of music
echoingthrough the open door and in the field there is another
soundtinkling in the cotton chains of bondman dragging on the
ground. the years go back with an iron clank a hand is on the gate;
a dryleaf trembles on the wall. ghosts are walking. they havebroken
roses down and poplar stand there still asdeath.