Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high, <br />And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean, <br />Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye, <br />Obey the mute call, and heave into motion. <br />Then, sound notes -- the gayest, the lightest, <br />That ever took wing, when heaven look'd brightest <br />Again! Again! <br />Oh! could such heart-stirring music be heard <br />In that City of Statues described by romancers, <br />So wakening its spell, even stone would be stirr'd, <br />And statues themselves all start into dancers! <br /> <br />Why then delay, with such sounds in our ears, <br />And the flower of Beauty's own garden before us -- <br />While stars overhead leave the song of their spheres, <br />And, listening to ours, hang wondering o'er us? <br />Again, that strain! -- to hear it thus sounding <br />Might set even Death's cold pulses bounding -- <br />Again! Again! <br />Oh, what delight when the youthful and gay <br />Each with eye like a sunbeam and foot like a feather, <br />Thus dance, like the Hours to the music of May, <br />And mingle sweet song and sunshine together.<br /><br />Thomas Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-night-dance/
