Dancing

"Dancing is the poetry of the foot."

--John Dryden

This dance

Will you dance with me?
I'll sing a song,
and you' ll sing, too.
Oh, won't it be nice
to dance beneath stars,
your hand holding mine?
The glow of the moon
will show us the way,
and we'll follow the music
until night disappears.

Slumber

Tonight how sweet it is to feel the peace
of drowsy-lidded sleep as it draws near!
My heart is singing lullabies; and
my angel will keep watch over my dreams
until the gentle dawn awakens me to
all the promise of the morning light.

Polly

Polly, she is kind,
she is pretty and she's fine.
She's fallen for a sailor,
and he to her has proved kind.
He said, "I'm sorry for to say,
Polly, I must sail away;
oh, but I will take you dancing
upon our wedding day.
And I will take you dancing
upon our wedding day."

Seven years or more,
oh, seven years or more
Polly's waiting for her sailor.
She weeps there on the shore.
When a man came by,
weeping Polly he did spy.
"Maiden, let me take you dancing,
and let your tears be dry.
Maiden, let me take you dancing,
and let your tears be dry.

Polly, in surprise, she wipes a tear
and then she sighs.
"I fear that my young sailor
on the ocean bed lies.
For you I have no care,
for my heart is with him there;
and I'll never go a-dancing
with you, I do declare.
No, I'll never go a-dancing
with you, I do declare."

"Polly, don't you see?
Oh, it's happy we will be,
for I am your own sailor
who has come from the sea.
It's here with you I'll stay,
and no more I'll sail away;
and we will go a-dancing
upon our wedding day;
oh, let me take you dancing
upon our wedding day;
and we will go a-dancing
upon our wedding day."

--as sung by Kate Rusby :http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RWJYufdKJFI

The little way of the Little Flower

"...I want nothing but what He wants. It is what He does that I love."

--St. Therese of Lisieux as quoted in I Believe in Love

Her story: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOk19qcgW1U

Ned of the Hill

Dark is the evening and silent the hour.

Who is the minstrel by yon lonely tower,

Whose harp he's so tenderly touching with skill?

Oh, who can it be but Ned of the Hill?

Who sings, "Lady love, come with me now,

Come and live merrily under the bough; and

I'll pillow your head where the fairies tread

If you will but wed with Ned of the Hill."

Ned of the Hill has no castle or hall,

No spearmen or bowmen to come at his call;

But one little archer of exquisite skill

Has loosed a bright shaft for Ned of the Hill.

Who sings, "Lady love, come to me now, come

and live merrily under the bough; and

I'll pillow thy head where the fairies tread

If you will but wed with Ned of the Hill."

It is hard to escape from this fair lady's bower

For high is the castle and guarded the tower;

But there's always a way where there is a will,

And so she has gone with Ned of the Hill.

Who sings, "Lady love, come to me now, come

and live merrily under the bough; and

I'll pillow thy head where the fairies tread

If you will but wed with Ned of the Hill."

--British folk song

Song of the sea

The sky is vast, and the plains roll on for miles.
The scent of earth and grass are all around me.
There's beauty here, it's true, and yet
there is a part of me which longs to trade
this sea of green for one of blue.