Death And A Dirge At Midnight; Yet Never A Soul In The House Heard Anything More Than The Throb And Beat Of A Beautiful Waltz Of Strauss. Dead, Dead, Dead, And Staring, With A Ghastly Smile On Its Face; But The World Saw Only Laughing Eyes And Roses, And Billows Of Lace. Floating And Whirling Together, Into The Beautiful Night, How Little You Dreamed Of The Ghastly Thing I Was Hiding Away From Your Sight. Meeting Your Dark Eyes' Splendour, Feeling Your Warm, Sweet Breath, How Could You Know That My Passionate Heart Had Died A Horrible Death? Died In Its Fever And Fervour, Died In Its Beautiful Bloom; And That Waltz Of Strauss Was A Funeral Dirge, Leading The Way To The Tomb. But You Held My Hand At Parting, And I Smiled Back A Gay Good Night; And You Never Knew Of The Ghastly Corpse I Was Hiding Away From Your Sight. Yet Whenever I Hear The Danube - Under Its Pulsing Strain, I Catch The Wail Of The Funeral Dirge, And My Heart Dies Over Again.