TABITHA, sweet Tabitha, I never can forget, And how the music sounded, and how our glances met, When underneath the swinging lamps we danced the minuet. The stately bow, the dainty poise, and in the music slips. Did she linger for an instant while I held her fingertips, And wondered if she'd ever let me touch them to my lips? And Tabitha wore powdered hair and dressed in quaint brocade, A tiny patch on either cheek just where the dimple played; The little shoe I noticed, too, and clocks, I am afraid. The music ceased, I led her softly smiling to the door; A pause, a rustling courtesy down almost to the floor, And Tabitha, sweet Tabitha, mine eyes beheld no more. I've trod in many measures since with widow, wife, and maid, In every kind of satin, silk, and spangled lace arrayed, And through it all I heard the fall of Tabitha's brocade. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PENDULUM by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BRAID CLAITH by ROBERT FERGUSSON TO LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDFORD, WITH MR. DONNE'S SATIRES by BEN JONSON THE BELLS OF SAN BLAS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 14 by OMAR KHAYYAM IDYLLS OF THE KING: DEDICATION by ALFRED TENNYSON |