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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A MAZURKA OF CHOPIN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Play on, play on, the low lights wane
Last Line: World of a wonder-dream.
Alternate Author Name(s): Rennell, 1st Baron
Subject(s): Chopin, Frederic Francois (1810-1849)


Play on, play on, the low lights wane,
So, softly, softly play!
For your fingers draw me away, away,
And dreamland comes again.
Are you 'ware of little stars in a pale sky!
Play on, — and say no word! —
There is scarce the breath of a midnight sigh,
Or a frond of the fern-wood stirred;
Was there ever a night so magic still?
Only a low moon is peeping
Through the sway of aspens sleeping,
And a ripple frets the rushes in the rill:
Are you 'ware of little feet upon the grass,
Tripping, rushing,
Hardly brushing
Any feather of the frailest as they pass,
Of a twinkle of infinite tiny feet,
And the kissing of tiny kisses?
Never was night so summer-sweet
Blessed of the moon as this is!
They are threading in endless mazes,
Lifting the drowsy fold
Of the lids of the sleeping daisies
For a look at the eyes of gold:
Gossamer robes of delicate weft
Cling light on the moony air,
Rosy petals, a pardoned theft,
Are bound on the streaming hair; —
Now round and round in a linking chain,
Round and round and away again!
They are dancing to the ripple they are moving,
Keeping time to the glinting of the star;
There's a glowworm for the lantern of their loving,
And wedding-bells are ringing where the heather-flowers are.

Can you hear their little voices? You would hear
If it were not for the ripple on the stream:
Still, for a moment, — now you hear,
Marvellous sweetly, clear and near,
Under that silver beam,
Songs of a wonder-world, my dear,
World of a wonder-dream.





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