V

The Dancing Girl

Do you know what it is to dance? Perhaps, you do know, in a fashion; But by dancing I mean, Not what's generally seen, But dancing of fire and passion, Of fire and delirious passion.

With a dusky-haired senorita, Her dark, misty eyes near your own, And her scarlet-red mouth, Like a rose of the south, The reddest that ever was grown, So close that you catch Her quick-panting breath As across your own face it is blown, With a sigh, and a moan.

Ah! that is dancing, As here by the Carib it's known.

Now, whirling and twirling Like furies we go; Now, soft and caressing And sinuously slow; With an undulating motion, Like waves on a breeze-kissed ocean:-- And the scarlet-red mouth Is nearer your own, And the dark, misty eyes Still softer have grown.

Ah! that is dancing, that is loving, As here by the Carib they're known.