The violins swayed the languorous waltz,
With a cadence in haunting minor strain,
In haunting minor strain;
Ah, 'twas our last dance.

Ah, how memory halts
At the sound of an old refrain.
Fragrance of roses, rustle of lace,
And the throbbing of pleading,
sweet-toned strings.

The fragrance of roses, rustle of lace,
And the throbbing of pleading,
sweet-toned strings.
Ah, 'twas our last dance. Ah,
Grant us a heart-beat's grace
To the joy that a memory brings.