
The speaker sits smoking by the fire, hugging his knee, watching a "witless masquerade" of childhood memories and imagined figures drift through the mingled light and shadow of the flames. These fancies pass in a thin, flimsy procession, and as the embers fall and fade with a last, reminding glow, the phantoms depart one by one. With a melancholy pleasure he recalls where his imagination once wandered, and turns to musing on what future years may hold, their stories still untold. As he muses, the fireside tongs and shovel, resting quietly in their shadowed niches, seem by slow degrees to take on the likeness of a pick and spade—tools of the grave—while the phantoms continue their departure one by one. He then reflects that though the "mystic Three" (the fates) ply their busy trade around him, and though Charon may soon ferry him across the gloomy Stygian glade, his soul should rouse itself and not fear whatever an unborn year may bring. Instead he charges himself to mind that his human debts are paid, even as, one by one, the phantoms go. In the envoy, addressed to "good friends," the poem states its moral plainly: life is a game that must be played, and this truth at least is known to all; therefore one should live and laugh, and not be dismayed, as one by one the phantoms go.
By Edwin Arlington Robinson · First published 1896 · Genre: Lyric Poetry, Ballade, Philosophical Poetry · 236 words
SLOWLY I smoke and hug my knee, / The while a witless masquerade
Of things that only children see
Floats in a mist of light and shade:
They pass, a flimsy cavalcade,
Ballade by the Fire is listed on Textopian as a poem by Edwin Arlington Robinson, dated 1896 CE.
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poetry · ballade · lyric poem · American literature · early twentieth century · melancholy · mortality · reflection · solitude · memory · time · loss