Poems (Cook)/Dancing Song

by Eliza Cook

DANCING SONG.

    Dance, dance, as long as ye can:
We must travel through life, but why make a dead march of it?
    The fine linen of state may sit well upon man,
But 'tis pleasant, methinks, just to rub out the starch of it.

    Dance, dance, as long as ye may:
See the plumes of the pine, how they dance on the mountain;
    See, the ocean floods dance while the winds pipe and play;
See, the radiant bubble-drops dance in the fountain!

    Dance, dance; let no cynic rebel:
See, the stars are for ever all dancing and twinkling!—
    'Tis the music of spheres which they dance to so well,
And that music is ceaseless, though soft be the tinkling.

    Dance, dance, every one:
The gnats round our heads dance in endless gyration;
    The very worlds foot it away round the sun,
Keeping up the old figure first led by Creation.

    Dance, dance see the sweet rose
Bend to the blue-bell, in light minuetting!
    Summer leaves fall when the autumn gust blows,
But they dance and die merrily, wildly poussetting.

    Dance, dance: look on the rill!
The white lilies nod, and the bulrushes quiver;
    The beautiful water-flags, when are they still?
They dance in the mill-pond, they dance in the river.

    Dance, dance: see over head
How the clouds dance along, with their gauzy robes streaming!
    Look below, see the legion of dancers that spread
In the corn-ears that shake, with their golden crowns gleaming!

    Dance, dance the wisp-light will try
With its harlequin dancing to tempt the lost ranger;
    The flame of the ingle-log dances on high,
To shed joy in the household, and beacon the stranger.

    Dance, dance the savage is found
Dancing in fury, in triumph, and laughter;
    The child, from the village-school trammels unbound,
Dances, as rarely he's seen to dance after.

    Dance, dance, as long as ye may:
Nature gets up a great "ballet" about us;
    Her stage-room is vast, so come, trip it away;
For Life's Opera cannot be perfect without us.