Page:The inn of dreams (1911).djvu/45

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The Dance

Do you remember that day I danced in the woods,
  Under the dancing leaves?
Do you remember the delicate blue of the sky
  And the gold-dust in the air?
And the tawny harvest fields, and the heavy sheaves?
Summer was surely in one of her bravest moods . . .
  And oh, the rare
Swift joy that lifted life to an ecstasy,
That shining day I danced for you, dear, in the woods!

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