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by
James A Emanuel
Michael Jackson
There ain't NO-BO-DY
can dance like THAT, 'cept them twins
Jazzlene and Jazzphat.
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by
Robert Herrick
SAFETY ON THE SHORE
What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore;
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danced before.
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by
William Morris
Spring
Spring am I, too soft of heart
Much to speak ere I depart:
Ask the Summer-tide to prove
The abundance of my love.
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by
Dorothy Parker
The Flaw In Paganism
Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
Love, the reeling midnight through,
For tomorrow we shall die!
(But, alas, we never do.)
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by
Edward Lear
There was an old man on the Border
There was an old man on the Border,
Who lived in the utmost disorder;
He danced with the cat, and made tea in his hat,
Which vexed all the folks on the Border.
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by
William Butler Yeats
The Spur
You think it horrible that lust and rage
Should dance attention upon my old age;
They were not such a plague when I was young;
What else have I to spur me into song?
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by
Carl Sandburg
Glimmer
LET down your braids of hair, lady.
Cross your legs and sit before the looking-glass
And gaze long on lines under your eyes.
Life writes; men dance.
And you know how men pay women.
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by
Li Po
On Dragon Hill
Drunk on Dragon Hill tonight,
the banished immortal, Great White,
turns among yellow flowers,
his smile wide,
as his hat sails away on the wind
and he dances away in the moonlight.
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by
Robert Herrick
Upon Julia's Hair Filled With Dew
Dew sat on Julia's hair,
And spangled too,
Like leaves that laden are
With trembling dew.
Or glittered to my sight,
As when the beams
Have their reflected light
Danced by the streams.
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by
Oscar Wilde
With A Copy Of 'A House Of Pomegranates'
Go, little book,
To him who, on a lute with horns of pearl,
Sang of the white feet of the Golden Girl:
And bid him look
Into thy pages: it may hap that he
May find that golden maidens dance through thee.
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by
Carl Sandburg
Five Cent Balloons
PIETRO has twenty red and blue balloons on a string.
They flutter and dance pulling Pietro’s arm.
A nickel apiece is what they sell for.
Wishing children tag Pietro’s heels.
He sells out and goes the streets alone.
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by
Stanley Kunitz
An Old Cracked Tune
My name is Solomon Levi,
the desert is my home,
my mother's breast was thorny,
and father I had none.
The sands whispered, Be separate,
the stones taught me, Be hard.
I dance, for the joy of surviving,
on the edge of the road.
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by
Emily Dickinson
Oh Sumptuous moment
Oh Sumptuous moment
Slower go
That I may gloat on thee --
'Twill never be the same to starve
Now I abundance see --
Which was to famish, then or now --
The difference of Day
Ask him unto the Gallows led --
With morning in the sky --
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by
Emily Dickinson
Snow flakes.
Snow flakes.
I counted till they danced so
Their slippers leaped the town,
And then I took a pencil
To note the rebels down.
And then they grew so jolly
I did resign the prig,
And ten of my once stately toes
Are marshalled for a jig!
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by
A E Housman
The Fairies Break Their Dances
The fairies break their dances
And leave the printed lawn,
And up from India glances
The silver sail of dawn.
The candles burn their sockets,
The blinds let through the day,
The young man feels his pockets
And wonders what's to pay.
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by
Richard Brautigan
Nine Things
It's night
and a numbered beauty
lapses at the wind,
chortles with the
branches of a tree,
giggles,
plays shadow dance
with a dead kite,
cajoles affection
from falling leaves,
and knows four
other things.
One is the color
of your hair.
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by
Emily Dickinson
He ate and drank the precious Words --
He ate and drank the precious Words --
His Spirit grew robust --
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was Dust --
He danced along the dingy Days
And this Bequest of Wings
Was but a Book -- What Liberty
A loosened spirit brings --
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by
William Butler Yeats
Imitated From The Japanese
A most astonishing thing --
Seventy years have I lived;
(Hurrah for the flowers of Spring,
For Spring is here again.)
Seventy years have I lived
No ragged beggar-man,
Seventy years have I lived,
Seventy years man and boy,
And never have I danced for joy.
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by
Edna St Vincent Millay
Chorus
Give away her gowns,
Give away her shoes;
She has no more use
For her fragrant gowns;
Take them all down,
Blue, green, blue,
Lilac, pink, blue,
From their padded hangers;
She will dance no more
In her narrow shoes;
Sweep her narrow shoes
From the closet floor.
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by
William Butler Yeats
The Dancer At Cruachan And Cro-Patrick
I, proclaiming that there is
Among birds or beasts or men
One that is perfect or at peace.
Danced on Cruachan's windy plain,
Upon Cro-patrick sang aloud;
All that could run or leap or swim
Whether in wood, water or cloud,
Acclaiming, proclaiming, declaiming Him.
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by
George William Russell
Unknown God
FAR up the dim twilight fluttered
Moth-wings of vapour and flame:
The lights danced over the mountains,
Star after star they came.
The lights grew thicker unheeded,
For silent and still were we;
Our hearts were drunk with a beauty
Our eyes could never see.
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by
Robert Burns
45. My Girl she’s Airy: A Fragment
MY girl she’s airy, she’s buxom and gay;
Her breath is as sweet as the blossoms in May;
A touch of her lips it ravishes quite:
She’s always good natur’d, good humour’d, and free;
She dances, she glances, she smiles upon me;
I never am happy when out of her sight.
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by
Countee Cullen
A Brown Girl Dead
With two white roses on her breasts,
White candles at head and feet,
Dark Madonna of the grave she rests;
Lord Death has found her sweet.
Her mother pawned her wedding ring
To lay her out in white;
She'd be so proud she'd dance and sing
to see herself tonight.
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by
Robert Frost
Canis Major
The great Overdog
That heavenly beast
With a star in one eye
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright
All the way to the west
And never once drops
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,
But to-night I will bark
With the great Overdog
That romps through the dark.
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by
Robert Burns
134. Fragment of Song—The Night was Still
THE NIGHT was still, and o’er the hill
The moon shone on the castle wa’;
The mavis sang, while dew-drops hang
Around her on the castle wa’;
Sae merrily they danced the ring
Frae eenin’ till the cock did craw;
And aye the o’erword o’ the spring
Was “Irvine’s bairns are bonie a’.”
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