Ladies, where were your bright eyes glancing,
   Where were they glancing yesternight ?
Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing,
   Imogen dancing all in white ?
   Laughed she not with a pure delight,
   Laughed she not with a joy serene,
Stepped she not with a grace entrancing,
   Slenderly girt in silken sheen ?

All through the night from dusk to daytime
   Under her feet the hours were swift,
Under her feet the hours of playtime
   Rose and fell with a rhythmic lift :
   Music set her adrift, adrift,
   Music eddying towards the day
Swept her along as brooks in Maytime
   Carry the freshly falling May.

Ladies, life is a changing measure,
   Youth is a lilt that endeth soon ;
Pluck ye never so fast at pleasure
   Twilight follows the longest noon.
   Nay, but here is a lasting boon,
   Life for hearts that are old and chill,
Youth undying for hearts that treasure
   Imogen daneing, dancing still.