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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! Andrew Lang's other poems:
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