Dancing Dust
	Poems by Mollie Caird (1922-2000)
	April, 1964
Home Alphabetic index of poems Thematic index of poems Biography Gallery Contact and links	This joyful month, four hundred years ago, Was happy Mistress Shakespeare brought to bed; The infant mewled and puked — how could she know What miracles would bud from that small head: A world of wonders (and all the world's a stage) Where Prospero wove spells, and Brutus fought, And valiant Hal, aflame with righteous rage, Thundered before the breach at Agincourt. Twin-born with Beatrice under a dancing star, Bawdy as Falstaff, grave as the luckless Dane, As deep in love as all his lovers are, Our golden lad, sweet Will, we'll sing again, Since proud-pied April dressed in all his trim Gave us the spirit of youth and gave us him. Oxford Times, 17 April 1964 The Dancing Dust and other poems, 1983