As in one's hand a sulphur-match burns white before it flames, and giddily unfurls its thrusting tongues:—thus circling in the sight of crowding watchers, hurried, hot and bright her round dance spreads in white and widening whirls. And suddenly it is sheer flame and flare. Then with her glance she kindles her tossed hair and with more daring artistry, leaps higher and wheels her vesture in this passion of fire, whence her bare arms, each like a startled snake, stretch sinuously rattling and awake. And then: as though the fire were strangling stuff, she gathers it together,—flings it off with one imperious gesture, her proud eyes watching: where raging on the ground it lies, and keeps on flaming, nor submits, a-spin.— Yet certain and triumphant, with a sweet and gracious smile, she lifts her perfect chin and stamps it out with little furious feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONSECRATION HYMN by FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL MEN AND BOYS by KARL THEODORE KORNER ON HOMER'S BIRTHPLACE by ANTIPATER OF SIDON LILIES OF WHITE by UNNUR BENEDIKTDOTTIR HUMAN PLEASURE OR PAIN by MATILDA BARBARA BETHAM-EDWARDS THE ELDER'S REBUKE by EMILY JANE BRONTE |