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 :::THE DANCE

ANCE on; we would not touch you, Nay — let us turn aside, Lest the shadow of what we've looked on In our eyes should be descried. Somewhere at least must fingers Be clasped to the burning sun; Somewhere must limbs be music To the tune the fates have spun; Somewhere the high immortals Must have oblations poured; Somewhere in classic portals, The gods must be adored; Somewhere must life be beauty Though the prophets darken their eyes, Somewhere must beauty be very truth Though the planets fall from the skies. Dance on: heed not our plight; Dance on: be cruel and free; Dance like a flame in the night! Dance like a star on the sea!