NOW JEWELLED, ALIGHT, YOU LEAD THE MIDNIGHT DANCES

by: Arthur Davison Ficke (1883-1945)

      OW jewelled, alight, you lead the midnight dances
      A thousand eyes, a hundred hearts are yours.
      In the great hall, the splendor of your glances
      With beauty's secret promise lights and lures.
      They flock to you; you smile; they press around you
      And crave your favors each with satyr smile.
      Does your look lie, or do they truly sound you
      With flatteries that your warming heart beguile?
      See--the low, lustful, thinly-maskèd faces!
      They crowd about you, drinking in your bloom.
      In fancy, each a taxi calls, and races
      With you to his own Sybaritic room. . . .
      I sit alone beneath my desk-lamp's glare,
      Cursing the fate that made you mine, and fair.

"Now jewelled, alight, you lead the midnight dances" is reprinted from Sonnets of a Portrait-Painter. Arthur Davison Ficke. New York: Mitchell Kennerley, 1914.

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