THE DANCER

You say the gods and muses all

From earth now banished be?

Will you believe that yester-eve

I saw Terpsichore?

Her robe of snow and gossamer

Enclad a form most neat;

Such sandals green were never seen

As shod her twinkling feet.

Her every step was melody,

Her every motion grace,

That one might prize a thousand eyes

To note both form and face.

The motes that dance in sunny beams

Tripped never in such wise;

This lovely sprite danced in the light

That beamed from her own eyes.

A man's head once was danced away —

You know how it befell?

My dainty fay danced yesterday

Men's hearts away as well.

What‘ s that?‘ Twas but a graceful girl

That took the hearts for pelf?

Nay, I was there, and‘ t was, I swear,

Terpsichore herself.