In the Waltz
An Echo From a Seaside Hop
Light as the waves foaming white on the bar,
We dance to the mandolin, harp, and guitar;
One, two, three, waltzing we glide round the room,—
Would you were bride, and ah, would I were groom!
On all the seashore none fairer than you;
What but adore you could any one do?
Cheeks like the pink of an evening sky,
Eyes that might bid a man laughingly die.
Ears like the shells from the Indian sea,
Teeth like white buds on a young apple-tree,
Throat like a lily bent heavy with dew,
Arms just as white and as lily-like too.
Lips that would tempt—ah! you’ll pardon me now,
Being so near them suggests, you’ll allow,
That the happiest thing e’er a mortal could do,
Would be to be ever thus waltzing with you.