The Little Dancers

Lonely, save for a few faint stars, the sky Dreams; and lonely, below, the little street Into its gloom retires, secluded and shy. Scarcely the dumb roar enters this soft retreat; And all is dark, save where come flooding rays From a tavern--window; there, to the brisk measure Of an organ that down in an alley merrily plays, Two children, all alone and no one by, Holding their tattered frocks, thro' an airy maze Of motion lightly threaded with nimble feet Dance sedately; face to face they gaze, Their eyes shining, grave with a perfect pleasure.