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Arthur Symons - The Armenian DancerArthur Symons - The Armenian Dancer
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O Secret and sharp sting That ends and makes delight, Come, my limbs call thee, smite To music every string Of my limbs quivering. I strain, and follow on After a joy in flight, That flies, and is delight Only when it is gone, Not to be looked upon. I strain, and would embrace With ardours infinite Some angel of delight That turns his heavenly face Ever into void space. I dance, and as I dance Desires as fires burn white To fan the flame delight; What vague desires advance With covered countenance? I dance, and shall not tire Though music in my sight Faint before my delight, And song like a thin fire Fail before my desire. The sense within me turns In labyrinths as of light. Not dying into delight; As a flame quickening burns, Speed in my body yearns. I Stop, a quivering Wraps me and folds me tight; I shudder, and touch delight, The secret and sharp sting, Suddenly, a grave thing.
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