Wind thine arms

Wind thine arms round me, woman of sorcery,

While the lascivious music murmurs afar:

I will close mine eyes, and dream as I dance with thee,

And pass away from the world where my sorrows are.

Faster and faster! strike the harps in the hall!

Woman, I fear that this dance is the dance of death!

Faster!-- ah, I am faint... and, ah, I fall.

The distant music mournfully murmureth...