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Imogen

(A Lady of Tender Age)Ladies, where were your bright eyes glancing,  Where were they glancing yester-night?

Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing,  Imogen dancing all in white?  Laughed she not with a pure delight,  Laughed she not with a joy serene,

Stepped she not with a grace entrancing,  Slenderly girt in silken sheen?

All through the night from dusk to daytime  Under her feet the hours were swift,

Under her feet the hours of play-time  Rose and fell with a rhythmic lift:  Music set her adrift, adrift,  Music eddying towards the

Swept her along as brooks in May-time  Carry the freshly falling May.

Ladies, life is a changing measure,  Youth is a lilt that endeth soon;

Pluck ye never so fast at pleasure  Twilight follows the longest noon.  Nay, but here is a lasting boon,  Life for hearts that are old and chill,

Youth undying for hearts that treasure  Imogen dancing, dancing still.

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Sir Henry Newbolt

Sir Henry John Newbolt, CH (6 June 1862 – 19 April 1938) was an English poet, novelist and historian. He is perhaps best remembered for his poem…
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