01.01.2011, 14:00
A COUNTRY DANCE
He has not woo'd, but he has lost his heart.
That country dance is a sore test for him ;
He thinks her cold ; his hopes are faint and dim ;
But though with seeming mirth she takes her part
In all the dances and the laughter there,
And though to many a youth, on brief demand.
She gives a kind assent and courteous hand,
She loves but him, for him is all her care.
With jealous heed her lessening voice he hears
Down that long vista, where she seems to move
Among fond faces and relays of love.
And sweet occasion, full of tender fears :
Down those long lines he watches from above,
Till with the refluent dance she reappears.
He has not woo'd, but he has lost his heart.
That country dance is a sore test for him ;
He thinks her cold ; his hopes are faint and dim ;
But though with seeming mirth she takes her part
In all the dances and the laughter there,
And though to many a youth, on brief demand.
She gives a kind assent and courteous hand,
She loves but him, for him is all her care.
With jealous heed her lessening voice he hears
Down that long vista, where she seems to move
Among fond faces and relays of love.
And sweet occasion, full of tender fears :
Down those long lines he watches from above,
Till with the refluent dance she reappears.