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And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say read more
And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say right well,
With emphasis, and also with good sense--
A thing in footing indispensable:
He danced without theatrical pretence,
Not like a ballet-master in the van
Of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.
Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the read more
Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.
Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of read more
Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of light, that her home is the air,
And she only par complaisance touches the ground.
I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to to dance better than myself.
I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to to dance better than myself.
Dancing in the chequer'd shade.
Dancing in the chequer'd shade.
It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It is the dream afraid of waking that never read more
It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It is the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance. It is the one who won't be taken who cannot seem to give. And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live.
Others import yet nobler arts from France,
Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.
Others import yet nobler arts from France,
Teach kings to fiddle, and make senates dance.
Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad
Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad
What! the girl I adore by another embraced?
What! the balm of her breath shall another man taste?
read more
What! the girl I adore by another embraced?
What! the balm of her breath shall another man taste?
What! pressed in the dance by another's man's knee?
What! panting recline on another than me?
Sir, she's yours; you have pressed from the grape its fine blue,
From the rosebud you've shaken the tremulous dew;
What you've touched you may take. Pretty waltzer--adieu!