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The truest expression of a people is in its dances and its music.
Bodies never lie.
The truest expression of a people is in its dances and its music.
Bodies never lie.
Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad
Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad
Endearing Waltz--to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance read more
Endearing Waltz--to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance forego
Your future claims to each fantastic toe!
Waltz--Waltz alone--both legs and arms demands,
Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands.
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
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Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows;
Old fold and young together, and children mingled among them.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.
To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.
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.
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.
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!