She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleam’d upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment’s ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From Maytime and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle, and waylay.
I shuffled awkwardly into a disco flooded with people ready to dance the night away. Everywhere I looked, groups of enthusiastic dancers were showing off their best moves on the shiny dance floor. Sighing, I scanned the room for a quiet corner of the room I could stand in alone, but then, I felt a…