DIZAIN

By Andrew Lang

As, to the pipe, with rhythmic feet

In windings of some old-world dance,

The smiling couples cross and meet,

Join hands, and then in line advance,

Si, to these fair old tunes of France,

Through all their maze of to-and-fro,

The light-heeled numbers laughing go,

Retreat, return, and ere they flee,

Moment pause in panting row,

And seem to say,— VOS PLAUDITE.