Death's soft tread and the tolling bell,
Life's long sigh and silent farewell
and the dancer is so pretty, so beautiful, on the stage.
The lights are on her moving form, and her shadows behind her against the backdrop, they dance too to the motions of her body, like a chorus line.
Ah, shadow lovers, never to be grasped—
Sweet dancer, with lips never clasped,
free forever in this paper cage,
where you shall never age,
a dream upon a page.
My vision blurs, and I must blink.
My head hurts; I cannot think.
Heavy heart, how long you sink.
Tale Told 