Ballet Russe
The gnome from moonland plays the Chopin air,
The ballerina glides out of the wings,
Like all the Aprils of forgotten Springs.
Smilling she comes, all smile,
All grace; forget the cruel world a while;
Forget vexation now and sorrow due.
A blue cap sits coquettish in her hair.
She is all youth, all beauty, all delight,
All that a boyhood loves and manhood needs.
What if an Empire perishes, who heeds?
Smiling she comes, her smile
Is all that may inspire, or beguile.
All that our haggard folly thinks untrue.
Upon the trouble of the moonlit strain
She moves like living mercy bringing light.
Soon, when the gnomish fingers cease to stray,
She will be gone, still smiling, to the wings,
To live among our unforgotten things,
Centaur and unicorn,
The queens in Avalon and Roland`s horn,
The mystery, the magic and the dew
Of a to-morrow and a yesterday.
