Lonely, save for a few faint stars, the sky <br />Dreams; and lonely, below, the little street <br />Into its gloom retires, secluded and shy. <br />Scarcely the dumb roar enters this soft retreat; <br />And all is dark, save where come flooding rays <br />From a tavern--window; there, to the brisk measure <br />Of an organ that down in an alley merrily plays, <br />Two children, all alone and no one by, <br />Holding their tattered frocks, thro' an airy maze <br />Of motion lightly threaded with nimble feet <br />Dance sedately; face to face they gaze, <br />Their eyes shining, grave with a perfect pleasure.<br /><br />Robert Laurence Binyon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-little-dancers/
