Poems By Edward Quillinan. With a Memoir by William Johnston |
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TO MARY, DANCING. |
Poems | ||
TO MARY, DANCING.
Diana's queenlike step is thine,
And when in dance thy feet combine
They fall with truth so sweet,
The music seems to come from thee,
And all the notes appear to be
“The echoes of thy feet.”
And when in dance thy feet combine
They fall with truth so sweet,
The music seems to come from thee,
And all the notes appear to be
“The echoes of thy feet.”
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And every limb with all the notes
In that accordant beauty floats
And careless air of chance,
That 'tis a rapture to behold
Thee thus, with waving locks of gold,
The very soul of dance.
In that accordant beauty floats
And careless air of chance,
That 'tis a rapture to behold
Thee thus, with waving locks of gold,
The very soul of dance.
The loveliness so rich before
Puts on a thousand graces more
In that inspiring maze;
Like jewels brighter when in motion,
Or sunshine on the waves of ocean,
Alive with dancing rays.
Puts on a thousand graces more
In that inspiring maze;
Like jewels brighter when in motion,
Or sunshine on the waves of ocean,
Alive with dancing rays.
Poems | ||