The girl goes dancing there On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth Grass plot of the garden; Escaped from bitter youth, Escaped out of her crowd, Or out of her black cloud. i(Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer.!) If strange men come from the house To lead her away, do not say That she is happy being crazy; Lead them gently astray; Let her finish her dance, Let her finish her dance. i(Ah, dancer, ah, sweet dancer.!)
Return to the William Butler Yeats library , or . . . Read the next poem; Swifts Epitaph