Little Smoking Flax

Dance, Little Smoking Flax! Dance and proclaim All thy still loveliness Lyric as flame.

Unmute thy life-music, Set free thy young joys In magical phrases Of rhythm and poise.

The passion of life And the pageant of art Must time to the drum-beat That sounds in thy heart,—

With eloquent telling Of gesture and bearing, Each impulse revealing, Each story declaring.

Of shimmering beryl Thy garments shall be, To dance with the tumult And shine of the sea.

Under tints of the dawn, In azure and jade, The floor of the world For thy dancing was laid.

Release thy enchantments, Thine ardor unveil, With the rapture that ran Through the feet of Izeyl.

Bare-foot and tender, Each step like a note Of jubilant song From a bobolink's throat!

Light as an Oread Treading the dew In glamorous twilight When summer is new,

Dance to the silver moon Slim in the west, Glad with the answering Thrill in thy breast.

Dance with the running brook, Run with the rain, The wind o'er the wheat field, The snow o'er the plain.

Dance with the sunlight That falls through the trees In quick golden patterns That shift with the breeze.

Swirl with the trailing mist Through the blue canyon, Pan's pipe thy music And mirth thy companion.

Flit with the fireflies Weaving their spell,— Fairy lights moving To signal all's well.

Swing with the planets Their sarabands slow, In mounting Te Deums The Seraphim know.

Through thrice-happy measures No hesitance mars, Ungirdle thy beauty And dance to the stars.

Spring, Little Smoking Flax, With thy heart's flame, Vibrant with Spirit That earth cannot tame!

Thou shalt be called Beloved of Shamballah, And dance like the joy In the Garden of Allah.