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Interlude at the Dance
Cloaking her round, I took her from the dance,
Covering her beauty up, her golden head,
And those entrancing arms. Gently I led
The virgin wonder forth, without a sound
Tiptoeing to the margin of the night,
Seeking adventure in the care of chance,
Chance, and that deep power which leads us on,
The destiny of hearts.
A bell boomed the hour,
Casting a flight of sound over the town;
And the loomed creeper swayed as the air passed
Heavy with bell-music. Things so slight
Troubled us, touching deeper tones within,
So that we clung together in distress,
Joyful distress, such as that which wrung
The hearts of Tristan and Isolda once
At the ship's prow, sailing the dark seas.
Shivering in the cool air, she looked up,
And her pallid brow, and her bright dance-flushed cheeks,
Gleamed like a southern moth in the lantern glow.
And her trembling mouth too ... As a child seeks
The mystery of the flowers, my mouth sought hers,
And we clung, oblivious of the chill night hours.
We took our fill of all the joys unsung,
And all the hidden splendour of young life.
Then, troubled with strife so unforeseen, so strange,
Throbbing with all the tumult that the earth could lend her,
She whispered unbidden, 'Take, take, and spare not.
It is no sin!' and I saw her soul range
Over the universe, asking what this might mean.
Then the response within me rose-'Take, take!'
But seeing her soul craving to be told,
I grew of a sudden chilled and old-and she,
Seeing me pause irresolute, knew that we dare not.
She arose, and we went in, silently.
Richard Church