Do you remember that day I danced in the woods,
  Under the dancing leaves?
Do you remember the delicate blue of the sky
  And the gold-dust in the air?
And the tawny harvest fields, and the heavy sheaves?
Summer was surely in one of her bravest moods...
  And oh, the rare
Swift joy that lifted life to an ecstasy,
That shining day I danced for you, dear, in the woods!

The purple twilight came, and the amber moon...
  And the fairies danced with me...
And the shy fauns crept from the tangled thicket near,
  And the startled dryads bent,
White and starry-eyed, each from her secret tree,
To watch that mystical dance, to share that heavenly swoon
  That mad, bright banishment...
For we were free in the perfect country, dear,
When purple twilight came and the amber moon...

Some day I shall dance again that mystical dance...
  I know not when or where!
But the angels shall dance with me, and I shall not be afraid.
  I shall look in their deep eyes...
And feel their arms about me, and their kisses in my hair,
And know that time is over, and the desperate ways of chance...
  I shall be very wise,
And glad at last, and the walls of the world shall fade...
The day when I dance again that mystical dance.