DOROTHY's daintily dressed for the dance, Gay in her grandmother's gown, Made long ago from the fashions of France, A relic of Paris renown. Hearts will be battered and broken Ere Dolly abandons the ball, Vows will be fervently spoken, For Dorothy's belle of the ball. Musing, I marvel how grandmother, too, Danced in those dignified days, Leading her lover so gracefully through The minuet's intricate maze. Lovers like Dolly's were plenty, Wishing to woo her and wed; Grandfather won her at twenty, -- Lucky man, every one said. Lucky, had Dorothy's grandmother been A beauty of Dorothy's class, -- Lucky, I echo, to woo her and win; Lucky to love such a lass. He won her. I bear him no malice; 'T is only the sweetest of wine I drain as I drink from my chalice, For Dorothy loves me, -- she's mine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW APOCRYPHA: THE FIG TREE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A PACIFIST FRIEND by GEORGE SANTAYANA BEFORE THE RAIN by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH WRITTEN FOR MY SON, AND SPOKEN BY HIM AT HIS FIRST PUTTING ON BREECHES by MARY BARBER ALNWICK CASTLE by FITZ-GREENE HALLECK BROODING GRIEF by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE ORLANDO FURIOSO: CANTO 10. by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO THE IVORY GATE; AN UNFINISHED DRAFT by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |