The Dance

Dance the night,
Dance the moon,
Dance the strings of olden swoon.
 
Dance with her that nubile friend,
Take her under the fog bank bend.
 
Trickle crimson stains the ground,
As comes the harp-like ecstactic sound.
 
Dance the night,
Dance the dead,
Dance 'top crypts as they moan in bed.
 
Lead thy lust towards the flesh,
As covetous,
As hunger,  
As passion make the mess.
 
Dance the way into the night,
 
Until all dancing, it is done,
 
Until the bat streaks 'way from the sun.