In working clothes with song and whoop and shout The mountain gallants shuffling, laughing, come As tuning banjos clack, then mildly strum, While girls in gingham idly stand about. Fiddles and banjos all in tune at last, A surge of racing music stirs the blood, And dancing couples start a mighty flood Of sound as brogan shoes go thumping fast. The music throbs for hours. The room grows hot. The dancing rages jubilant and wild, Each dancer seeming happy as a child. Then sharp above it all a pistol shot -- A heavy body falls and stops the whirl, Shot dead for dancing with his pal's best girl. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REINFORCEMENTS by MARIANNE MOORE HEAVEN-HAVEN; A NUN TAKES THE VEIL by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MARCH by EDMUND SPENSER SEEN IN TWILIGHT by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN AVELINGLAS by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |