The speaker stands at the edge of a forest and treats it like a threshold, a place where the rules change. Going in means giving something up, and the poem frames that as a trade: reason for heart, an ordinary life for "a little dance." The title's commercial language makes the exchange feel almost playful, as if the woods were a shop with a strange but fair policy.
What the speaker feels seems closer to willing surrender than to loss. There's no hesitation in the lines, only a calm, quick handing-over. Yet the last phrase, "pretty as pitch," adds a shadow. Pitch can mean tar, or darkness, and it is sticky. So the dance may be beautiful and also a little dangerous, something that could cling to you. The mood is light, mysterious, and slightly unsettling, like a pleasant dream that you suspect has a price.