And down the long and silent street,The dawn, with silver-sandaled feet,Crept like a frightened girl.
- Oscar Wilde
Silently we went round and round, And through each hollow mind The memory of dreadful things Rushed like a dreadful wind, And horror stalked before each man, And terror crept behind.
- Oscar Wilde
There was a silence. The evening darkened in the room. Noiselessly and with silver feet the shadows crept in from the garden. The colours faded wearily out of things.