Poem by Andrew Lang

Dizain

As, to the pipe, with rhythmic feet
In windings of some old-world dance,
The smiling couples cross and meet,
Join hands, and then in line advance,
So, to these fair old tunes of France,
Through all their maze of to-and-fro,
The light-heeled numbers laughing go,
Retreat, return, and ere they flee,
One moment pause in panting row,
And seem to say--Vos plaudite!

1. Ballade of the Tweed
2. Culloden
3. Ballade of the Midnight Forest
4. In Ithaca
5. The Odyssey

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