 | The Cavalier daily Saturday, November 14, 1970 |  |
At The Dance
Always you have the power, with a glance,
To make my eyes their fealty confess.
And fill me with a rapturous distress
That holds my spirit in a golden trance.
I do recall one evening at a dance,—
The evening that you wore the wine-red dress;
(Its color suited well your loveliness.
And seemed its charm to heighten and enhance.)
'Twas not the music that bewitched my blood;
I was not dizzied by the whirling feet,
Nor warmed and flattered by the fumes of wine,
I lingered rapt and charmed where you stood;
One moment, in the dance, I clasped you, Sweet,
And for that one bright moment you were mine.
To make my eyes their fealty confess.
And fill me with a rapturous distress
That holds my spirit in a golden trance.
I do recall one evening at a dance,—
The evening that you wore the wine-red dress;
(Its color suited well your loveliness.
And seemed its charm to heighten and enhance.)
'Twas not the music that bewitched my blood;
I was not dizzied by the whirling feet,
Nor warmed and flattered by the fumes of wine,
I lingered rapt and charmed where you stood;
One moment, in the dance, I clasped you, Sweet,
And for that one bright moment you were mine.
THOMAS LOMAX HUNTER.
| The Cavalier daily Saturday, November 14, 1970 | |