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Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.Round me reels in the dance
Death, my saviour, my lord,
Crowned; there is no more France.By some prophetic chance
With her I wanted to danceIn windings of some old-world dance,
The smiling couples cross and meet,
Join hands, and then in line advance,Now by what whim of wanton chance
Do radiant eyes know sombre days?
And feet that shod in light should danceWhen in a dance
He falls in a trance,As the troop with strange gestures advance,
And a rattle and clatter anon rises high,
As of one beating time to the dance.The heat-waves quiver and dance,
And the breath of the wind is a sword to slay
And the sunbeams each a lance.No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.Never had a brother ner a whole pair of pants,
But when I start to fiddle, why, yuh got to start to dance!Luck lurks in the offing. On, on with the dance.
Aw, tear up your ticket! The sun is still shining.
The next race is starting. Who foots it with Chance?You do not often get the chance
Of seeing sugar brokers danceAgain she gazed with an eager glance,
Wandering and wildly bright;–
She saw but the sparkling waters danceO body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance?Warlocks and witches in a dance;
Nae cotillion brent-new frae France,Some favorite airs they sing, while they advance
Up to the altar, just as to a dance:A ruin where satyrs dance,
A garden wasted for beasts to crawl and brawl in,
What hast thou done with France?On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;True ease in writing comes from art, not chance,
As those move easiest who have learned to dance.