Dancing is silent poetry.

Dancing is silent poetry.

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.

And the dancing has begun now,
And the dancers whirl round gaily
In the waltz's giddy mazes,
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And the dancing has begun now,
And the dancers whirl round gaily
In the waltz's giddy mazes,
And the ground beneath them trembles.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

My dancing days are done.

My dancing days are done.

O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing
The same that were taught me ten seasons ago;
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O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing
The same that were taught me ten seasons ago;
The schoolmaster over the land is advancing,
Then why is the master of dancing so slow?
It is such a bore to be always caught tripping
In dull uniformity year after year;
Invent something new, and you'll set me a skipping:
I want a new figure to dance with my Dear!

Dancing in the chequer'd shade.

Dancing in the chequer'd shade.

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love read more

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.

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.