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Mrs. II. (though I have broken my shins, and four times overturned Mrs. Hornem's maid, in practising the preliminary steps in a morning). Indeed so much do I like it, that having a turn for rhyme, tastily displayed in some election ballads, and songs in honour of all the victories (but till lately I have had little practice in that way), I sat down, and, with the aid of William Fitzgerald, Esq., and a few hints from Dr. Busby (whose recitations I attend, and am monstrous fond of Master Busby's manner of delivering his father's late successful "Drury Lane Address"), I composed the following hymn, wherewithal to make my sentiments known to the ublic; whom nevertheless, I heartily despise, as well as the critics

I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c.
HORACE HORNEM

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MUSE of the many-twinkling feet! whose charms*
Are now extended up from legs to arms;
Terpsichore !-too long misdeem'd a maid-
Reproachful term-bestow'd but to upbraid—
Henceforth in all the bronze of brightness shine,
The least a vestal of the virgin Nine.
Far be from thee and thine the name of prude;
Mock'd, yet triumphant; sneer'd at, unsubdued ;
Thy legs must move to conquer as they fly,
If but thy coats are reasonably high;

Thy breast-if bare enough-requires no shield;
Dance forth,- -sans armour thou shalt take the field,
And own-impregnable to most assaults,
Thy not too lawfully begotten "Waltz."

Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young hussar,
The whisker'd votary of waltz and war,
His night devotes, despite of spur and boots;
A sight unmatch'd since Orpheus and his brutes:
Hail, spirit-stirring Waltz !-beneath whose banners
A modern hero fought for modish manners;
On Hounslow's heath to rival Wellesley's fame,+
Cock'd-fired-and miss'd his man-but gain'd his aim ;

"Glance their many-twinkling feet."-GRAY.

To rival Lord Wellesley's, or his nephew's, as the reader pleases :-the one gained? pretty woman, whom he deserved, by fighting for; and the other, has been fighting is the Peninsula many a long day, "by Shrewsbury clock," without gaining anything in that country but the title of " the Great Lord" and " the Lord;" which savours of profanation, having been hitherto applied only to that Being to whom "Te Deums" for carnage are the rankest blasphemy. It is to be presumed that the general will one day return to his Sabine farm; there

"To tame the genius of the stubborn plain,
Almost as quickly as he conquer'd Spain !"

The Lord Peterborough conquered continents in a summer; we do more-we contrive both to conquer and lose them in a shorter season. If the "great Lord's" Cincinnatian progress in agriculture be no speedier than the proportional average of time in Pope's couplet, it will, according to the farmer's proverb, be" ploughing with dogs."

By the bye-one of this illustrious person's new titles is forgotten-it is, however,

Hail, moving Muse! to whom the fair one's breast
Gives all it can, and bids us take the rest.
Oh! for the flow of Busby, or of Fitz,

The latter's loyalty, the former's wits,
To "energize the object I pursue,"
And give both Belial and his dance their due!

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine import from all duty free,
And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee:
In some few qualities alike-for hock
Improves our cellar-thou our living stock.
The head to hock belongs-thy subtler art
Intoxicates alone the heedless heart:
Through the full veins thy gentler poison swims,
And wakes to wantonness the willing limbs.

Oh, Germany, how much to thee we owe,
As heaven-born Pitt can testify below,
Ere cursed confederation made thee France's,
And only left us thy d-d debts and dances !
Of subsidies and Hanover bereft,

We bless thee still-for George the Third is left!
Of kings the best-and last, not least in worth,
For graciously begetting George the Fourth.
To Germany, and highnesses serene,

Who owe us millions-don't we owe the Queen?
To Germany, what owe we not besides?
So oft bestowing Brunswickers and brides;
Who paid for vulgar, with her royal blood,
Drawn from the stem of each Teutonic stud;
Who sent us-so be pardon'd all her faults-
A dozen dukes, some kings, a queen-and Waltz.

But peace to her-her emperor and diet,
Though now transferr'd to Buonaparte's "fiat!"
Back to my theme-O Muse of Motion! say,
How first to Albion found thy Waltz her way?

Borne on the breath of hyperborean gales,
From Hamburg's port (while Hamburg yet had mails)
Ere yet unlucky fame-compell'd to creep
To snowy Gottenburg-was chill'd to sleep;
Or, starting from her slumbers, deign'd arise,
Heligoland, to stock thy mart with lies;

worth remembering-" Salvador del mundo!" credite posteri! If this be the appellation annexed by the inhabitants of the Peninsula to the name of a man who has not yet saved them--query, are they worth saving, even in this world? for, according to the mildest modifications of any Christian creed, those three words make the odds much against them in the next. "Saviour of the world," quotha !-it were to be wished that he, or any one else, could save a corner of it-his country. Yet this stupid misnomer, although it shows the near connection between superstition and impiety, so far has its use, that it proves there can be little to dread froin those Catholics (inquisitorial Catho lics too) who can confer such an appellation on a Protestant. I suppose next year he will be entitled the " Virgin Mary;" if so, Lord George Gordon himself would have nothing to object to such liberal bastards of our Lady of Babylon.

While unburnt Moscow yet had news to send,*
Nor owed her fiery exit to a friend,

She came-Waltz came-and with her certain sets
Of true despatches, and as true gazettes:
Then flamed of Austerlitz the blest despatch,
Which Moniteur nor Morning Post can match;
And-almost crush'd beneath the glorious news-
Ten plays-and forty tales of Kotzebue's;
One envoy's letters, six composers' airs,
And loads from Frankfort and from Leipsic fairs;
Meiner's four volumes upon womankind,
Like Lapland witches to insure a wind;
Brunck's heaviest tome for ballast, and, to back it,
Of Heynè, such as should not sink the packet.

Fraught with this cargo-and her fairest freight,
Delightful Waltz, on tiptoe for a mate,
The welcome vessel reach'd the genial strand,
And round her flock'd the daughters of the land.
Not decent David, when, before the ark,
His grand pas-seul excited some remark;
Not love-lorn Quixote, when his Sancho thought
The knight's fandango friskier than it ought;
Not soft Herodias, when, with winning tread,
Her nimble feet danced off another's head;
Not Cleopatra on her galley's deck,
Display'd so much of leg, or more of neck,
Than thou, ambrosial Waltz, when first the moon
Beheld thee twirling to a Saxon tune!

To you, ye husbands of ten years! whose brows
Ache with the annual tributes of a spouse;
To you of nine years less, who only bear

The budding sprouts of those that you shall wear,
With added ornaments around them roil'd
Of native brass, or law-awarded gold;
To you, ye matrons, ever on the watch

To mar a son's, or make a daughter's match;
To you, ye children of-whom chance accords-
Always the ladies, and sometimes the lords;
To you, ye single gentlemen, who seek
Torments for life, or pleasures for a week;
As Love or Hymen your endeavours guide,
To gain your own, or snatch another's bride ;-

The patriotic arson of our amiable allies cannot be sufficiently commended-nor subscribed for. Amongst other details omitted in the various despatches of our eloquent ambassador, he did not state (being too much occupied with the exploits of Colonel Cin swimming rivers frozen, and galloping over roads impassable) that one entire province perished by famine in the most melancholy manner, as follows:-In General Rostopchin's consummate conflagration, the consumption of tallow and train oil was so great, that the market was inadequate to the demand; and thas one hundred and thirty-three thousand persons were starved to death, by being reduced to wholesome diet. The lamplighters or London have since subscribed a pint (of oil) apiece, and the tallow-chandlers have unanimously voted a quantity of the best moulds (four to the pound), to the relief of the surviving Scythians;-the scarcity will soon, by such exertions, and a proper attention to the quality rather than the quantity of provision, be total alleviated. It is said, in return, that the untouched Ukraine has subscribed sixty thousand beeves for a day's meal to our suffering manufacturers,

To one and all the lovely stranger came,
And every ball-room echoes with her name.

Endearing Waltz !-to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance, forego
Your future claims to each fantastic toe!
Waltz-Waltz alone-both legs and arms demands,
Liberal of feet, and lavish of her hands;
Hands which may freely range in public sight
Where ne'er before-but-pray "put out the light."
Methinks the glare of yonder chandelier
Shines much too far-or I am much too near;

66

And true, though strange-Waltz whispers this remark,
My slippery steps are safest in the dark!"
But here the Muse with due decorum halts,
And lends her longest petticoat to Waltz.

Observant travellers of
every time!
Ye quartos publish'd upon every clime!
Oh, say, shall dull Romaika's heavy round,
Fandango's wriggle, or Bolero's bound;
Can Egypt's Almas*-tantalizing group-
Columbia's caperers to the warlike whoop-
Can aught from cold Kamschatka to Cape Horn
With Waltz compare, or after Waltz be borne ?
Ah, no! from Morier's pages down to Galt's,
Each tourist pens a paragraph for "Waltz."

Shades of those belles whose reign began of yore,
With George the Third's, and ended long before!
Though in your daughters' daughters yet you thrive,
Burst from your lead, and be yourselves alive!
Back to the bali-room speed your spectred host;
Fool's Paradise is dull to that you lost.
No treacherous powder bids conjecture quake;
No stiff-starch'd stays make meddling fingers ache
(Transferr'd to those ambiguous things that ape
Goats in their visage, women in their shape) ;+
No damsel faints when rather closely press'd,
But more caressing seems when most caress'd;
Superfluous hartshorn, and reviving salts,

Both banish'd by the sovereign cordial "Waltz."

Dancing-girls-who do for hire what Waltz doth gratis.

It cannot be complained now, as in the Lady Baussière's time, of the "Sieur de la Croix," that there be "no whiskers;" but how far these are indications of valour in the field, or elsewhere, may still be questionable. Much may be, and hath been, avouched on both sides. In the olden time, philosophers had whiskers, and soldiers none-Scipio himself was shaven-Hannibal thought his one eye handsome enough without a beard; but Adrian, the emperor, wore a beard (having warts on his chin, which neither the empress Sabina nor even the courtiers could abide)-Turenne had whiskers, Marlborough none-Buonaparte is unwhiskered, the Regent whiskered; " argal" greatness of mind and whiskers may or may not go together; but certainly the different occurrences, since the growth of the last mentioned, go further in behalf of whiskers than the anathema of Anselm did against long hair in the reign of Henry I. Formerly, red was a favourite colour. See Lodowick Barry's comedy of Ram Alley, 1661, Act i. scene 1.

"

Taffeta.-Now for a wager-What coloured beard comes next by the window? "Adriana.-A black man's, I think.

"Taffeta.-I think not so: I think a red, for that is most in fashion."

There is" nothing new under the sun;" but red, then a favourite, has now subsided into a favourite's colour.

L

Seductive Waltz !-though on thy native shore
Even Werter's self proclaim'd thee half a whore;
Werter-to decent vice though much inclined,
Yet warm, not wanton; dazzled, but not blind-
Though gentle Genlis, in her strife with Staël,
Would e'en proscribe thee from a Paris ball;
Thee fashion hails-from countesses to queens,
And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes;
Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads,
And turns-if nothing else—at least our heads;
With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce,
And cockneys practise what they can't pronounce.
God! how the glorious theme my strain exalts,
And rhyme finds partner rhyme in praise of Waltz !

Blest was the time Waltz chose for her début;
The court, the Regent, like herself were new ;
New face for friends, for foes some new rewards;
New ornaments for black and royal guards;
New laws to hang the rogues that roar'd for bread;
New coins (most new) to follow those that fled ;+
New victories--nor can we prize them less,
Though Jenky‡ wonders at his own success;
New wars, because the old succeed so well,
That most survivors envy those who fell;
New mistresses-no, old-and yet 'tis true,
Though they be old, the thing is something new;
Each new, quite new-(except some ancient tricks), §

New white-sticks, gold-sticks, broom-sticks, all new sticks!

With vests or ribbons deck'd alike in hue,
New troopers strut, new turncoats blush in blue;
So saith the muse: my- what say you ?||
Such was the time when Waltz might best maintain
Her new preferments in this novel reign;
Such was the time, nor ever yet was such;
Hoops are no more, and petticoats not much;
Morals and minuets, virtue and her stays,
And tell-tale powder-all have had their days.
The ball is-the honours of the house

First duly done by daughter or by spouse,

An anachronism-Waltz and the battle of Austerlitz are before said to have opened the ball together; the bard means (if he means anything), Waltz was not so much in Vogue till the Regent attained the acmé of his popularity. Waltz, the comet, whiskers, and the new government, illuminated heaven and earth, in all their glory, much about the same time; of these the comet only has disappeared; the other three continue to astonish us still.-Printer's Devil.

↑ Amongst others a new ninepence-a creditable coin now forthcoming, worth a pound, in paper, at the fairest calculation.

Jenkinson.

"Oh that right should thus overcome might !" Who does not remember the "delicate investigation" in the "Merry Wives of Windsor ?"—

"Ford.-Pray you, come near: if I suspect without cause, why then make sport at me: then let me be your jest; I deserve it. How now? whither bear you this? "Mrs. Ford.-What have you to do whither they bear it ?-you were best meddle with buck-washing."

The gentle, or ferocious, reader may fill up the blank as he pleases-there are several dissyllabic names at his service (being already in the Regent's); it would not be fair to back any peculiar initial against the alphabet, as every month will add to the list now entered for the sweepstakes:-a distinguished consonant is said to be the favourite, much against the wishes of the knowing ones.

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