(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.
