A slender willow touched by wind,
Whispers of your grace.
The singing brook and sunlight spin
Their web of dappled lace
To wrap you in its radiance,
As lissome shadows trace
The beauty of your being
In this enchanted place. Dance ballerina! La Sylphide
Is you, as you are she.
Your paean to the muse has waked
The dryad of the tree.
And waking, weaves her wondrous spell,
And woodland grasses come to be
A sylvan ballet dancing to
The rhythm of your ecstasy. Ah Terpsichore, would that thee
Could make this magic moment be
Forever.