The Dancers (For Edwin Arlington Robinson) Poem by Margaret Widdemer

Ours was a quiet town, a still town, a sober town,
Softly curled the yellow roads that slept in the sun,
Staid came the day up and staid came the night down
And staidly went we sleepwise when the day's work was done!
Oh, they came dancing down, the gay ones, the bonny ones,
We had never seen the like, sweet and wild and glad,
Down the long roads they came, fluting and dancing,
Flowers in each lass's hair and plumes on each lad!
Sweet were their clinging hands, kind were their voices,
'Dance with us, laugh with us, good grave folk,' said they,
'Swift we must go from you, time's long for toiling,
Come and make joy with us the brief while we stay!'
Oh, then was a gay time, a wild time, a glad time,
Hand in hand we danced with them beneath sun and moon,
Flowers were for garlanding and greens were for dancing–
This was the wisdom we learned of them too soon!
Swift went the day past, a glad day, a wild day,
Swift went the night past, a night wild and glad,
Down fell their arms from us, loosening, fleeting,
Far down the roads they danced, wild lass and wild lad!
Far fled their dancing feet, far rang their laughter,
Far gleamed their mocking eyes beneath the garlands gay,
All too late we knew them then, the wild eyes, the elf-eyes,
Wood-folk and faun-folk that danced our hearts away!

Ours is a still town, a sad town, a sober town,
Still lie the dun roads all empty in the sun,
Sad comes the day up and sad falls the night down,
And sadly go we sleepwise when the day's watch is done!