Once she was a famous, gracious ballerina.
Dancing for kings and queens, she stole the heart of every man, captured the envy of every woman. 

In each pose, in every movement, one could find a rare perfection,
as if guided by a magic spell, her elegance was mesmerizing.

Ane Marie was grace, in name and in essence.
Her name exuded beauty, her being, pure emotion.

But her seemingly endless embers of fame have died, 
as the lights of the Royal Ballet Theater faded into eternal darkness.

Now her spotlight glows dim, and her only dancing companion is Sir Thomas Riddell,
a gentle man, who died 197 years ago.

 So if you ever find yourself in Edinburgh, in the famous Greyfriars Kirkyard cemetery, 
sit down on the bench next to the side-by-side graves of Ane Marie and Sir Thomas, and wait until nightfall.

For if you are lucky, and sit very still, 
the stars in the sky will seem to shiver, as the tombstones shimmer in pale and eerie moonlight.

 They will rise for you, perform for you, their lonely admirer, 
for you will witness a frightful yet beautiful dance, as your heart pounds, and a tear of emotion escapes from your eyes.

Oh yes indeed, never again, not even in a hundred years, 
will you forget the sight of Ane Marie and her Thomas, 

as they dance their ghostly . . . . Danse Macabre