Lawrence Hall
Dispatches for the Colonial Office
You Were Dancing Up the Lane
In an old lawn chair I sat and dozed
And felt amber dusk sealing the day
Though I was weary and my eyes were half-closed
I heard you – you, whistling a romantic lay
You were skipping barefoot up the lane
Your skirt all a-dance for your heart’s desire
O Lady-Queen of our happy demesne
With flowers for me, your most devoted squire
I awoke, I blinked – I was all alone -
The sun had set on us, many years gone
But I saw you dancing up the lane…
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