Dance the ghost with me

For years, "The Black Swan" from Gian Carlo Menotti's The Medium (1946) was my standard audition aria: I heard it first in high school and it sounded like a fever dream or a nightmare, so naturally I fell in love with it. Whether I should blame the weather or the time of year, it's been in my head all day. Herewith, lyrics.

The Black Swan

The sun has fallen and it lies in blood
The moon is weaving bandages of gold
O black swan, where, o where is my lover gone?
Torn and tattered is my bridal gown
And my lamp is lost

With silver needles and with silver thread
The stars stitch a shroud for the dying sun
O black swan, where, o where has my lover gone?
I had given him a kiss of fire
And a golden ring

Don't you hear your lover moan?
Eyes of glass and feet of stone
Shells for teeth and weeds for tongue
Deep, deep down in the river's bed
He's looking for the ring
Eyes wide open, never asleep
He's looking for the ring

The spools unravel and the needles break
The sun is buried and the stars weep
O black wave, o black wave, take me away with you
I will share with you my golden hair
And my bridal crown

O take me down with you
Take me down to my wandering lover
With my child unborn
With my child unborn

Autumn, ghost-time: have a good season, all.