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Come and trip it as ye go,
On the light fantastic toe.
Come and trip it as ye go,
On the light fantastic toe.
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.
No Sane man will dance.
No Sane man will dance.
Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er,
And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more
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Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er,
And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more
At their speed behold advancing
Modern men and women dancing;
Step and dress alike express
Above, below from heel to toe,
Male and female awkwardness.
Without a hoop, without a ruffle,
One eternal jig and shuffle,
Where's the air and where's the gait?
Where's the feather in the hat?
Where the frizzed toupee? and where
Oh! where's the powder for the hair?
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.
Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon read more
Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon as a dance has come to a close,
Another begins, and each merrily goes.
My dancing days are done.
My dancing days are done.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.
What! the girl I adore by another embraced?
What! the balm of her breath shall another man taste?
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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!
