And but remember'd as a faithless dream,
That, with delusive rapture, lull'd awhile
The simple heart; then snatch'd away the beam
Of glitt'ring hope, and mock'd the joyous smile
That dimpled on the cheek ?-sad is thy tale;
And yet, fair stranger! from thy plaintive lyre
Such melting sweetness trembles to the gale,
That, as the dulcet melodies expire,
Won to the sorrows of thy breast alone,
I mourn thy griefs, forgetful of my own!
LINES BY THE REV. W. BOWLES.
HAS inter placidas umbras et amœna vireta,
Quà leni trepidans labitur unda sono;
Sperabam longos heu! tecum ducere soles,
Et fido acclinis consenuisse sinu!
Fato aliter visum est-Urnam mihi restat inanem
Ornare, et mæstà dicere voce 'Vale!'
TRANSLATION.
THESE peaceful shades and greenwood walks among,
Where, slow meand'ring o'er the verdant ground,
Yon glitt'ring streamlet softly steals along,
And soothes the ear with melancholy sound;
Here had I hop'd, soft pillow'd in thine arms,
To hail the dawn of many a circling sun;
And, far from all the giddy world's alarms,
The blissful tenour of my years to run!
But angry Fate the gracious boon denies-
Mine is the task-the mournful task to strew
'Thine urn with flow'rs-and chok'd with rising sighs,
In broken murmurs faulter out 'Adieu!'
THE WALTZ,
AN HEROIC ODE,
IN DEFENCE OF THAT MOST POPULAR AND ADMIRED DANCE.
THE Waltz I sing! and sure a theme more charming
Never yet gave the poet's brain a warming;
The Waltz I sing! that source of endless jarring,
Of biting wit, and scientific sparring;
Of pro's and con's, aud most admir'd disorder,
From Britain's centre, to the German border.
Delightful Waltz! and can you cause displeasure?
Source as you are, of comforts without measure.
Delightful Waltz! can you excite such anger?
That are not worse than Spain's belov'd Fandanga!
I hate the churl, who looking on so cynical,
Sees ought in you to virtue that's inimical;
I hate the puritan, whose long grimaces,
Express deep horror at your harmless paces.
What monstrous prejudice, what frightful croaking,
About a dance! it's really quite provoking;
As if our heels were now the source of feeling,
And Virtue could have aught to do with reeling!
Or that, if round the room too swiftly gliding,
Our whirling heads should give our feet a sliding,
It e'er could prove the odious dogma right,
That Virtue staggers, when the head is light.
How just the proverb of all-polished France,
Ye wretches, Honi soit qui mal y' pense.'
Ask Buonaparte, ask Maria-Louisa,
(For Buonaparte danc'd the Waltz to please her:)
Just ask them, if they think there's aught of harm in it,
Or that the heart, or head, can get too warm in it?
Bony will tell you, dat so far from dat dere,
He let his Empress dance de Waltz with Berthier,'
Just for no earthly reason (you'll believe him)
Than from the toil of dancing to relieve him.
Quizzes, lame, blind, and deaf, and ancient misses,
Waltzing detest, and follow it with hisses;
And why? the reason cannot be mistaken,
Pleasures they hate, they can no more partake in.
Since they can't hobble through the Waltz on crutches,
For cards they'd nail us, in their hungry clutches;
They know, too well, their waltzing days are over,
They cannot gaze thro' spectacles on lover:
GEN. CHRON. VOL. III. NO. XV.
While gouty sires, and bachelors so musty,
To see us skim along, become quite crusty;
Shake their wise heads, as you might think, in sapience,
But only at our pleasures, losing patience.
Hail! Waltzing, bail! in Quiz and Crone's despight,
Hail! Waltzing, hail! sweet source of fond delight!
None, none can tell, save those who dance with spirit,
Of lovely Waltzing, half the charms or merit;
For, if not danc'd with ease (no prudish fetter),
Not danc'd at all, 'tis infinitely better;
For grace consists in ease, that is undoubted,
And aukward bashfulness must be quite scouted.
Oh! then the charming intercourse of soul,
As to soft music, round the room we roll!
But, mark me, let my meaning be laconic,
This intercourse of soul is all platonic.
The moving glances, sweet agreeable sighs,
The powerful language of the hands and eyes;
The gentle pressures, delicate and tender,
For you with ease, must to all these surrender;
And, smiling, on one side recline your head,
For ease is grace, as I before have said:
And without ease and grace, I must repeat,
The Waltz is but a stupid sort of treat.
Grace is the soul of ease, and ease of grace is,
The Waltz was never made for blushing faces;
Intrepid Waltzers! hear the friendly call,
Or dance with spirit, or dance not at all.
Waltzing was made for souls of noble daring,
And hardy dames, of husbands long despairing.
But few the origin of Waltzing know,
Whether it came from heav'n, or hell below,
Whether it came from Jericho, or France,
They only know it's a bewitching dance:
The poet can alone this secret tell,
Whom deep research and pains have taught full well.
By the fam'd Amazons, 'twas first invented,
Dames, who from fighting, would not be prevented;
They danc'd it to the sound of music martial,
(To all that gave them courage, being partial)
When first to fight great Theseus forth they sallied,
Deeming their spirits thus more fully rallied.
And ladies who were going to fight their foes,
Had need of courage, one may well suppose.
The music slow, then quick, then slow again,
Prepar'd them for the horrors of the plain.
The slow, when to soft pipes and tabors moving,
Tho' fierce in war, they tender grew, and loving;
The quick, when to the sound of drum and fiddle,
They seiz'd each other tight about the middle,
Meaning the battle's heat; then slow again,
When wounded, dying, groaning, strew'd the plain.
This was the Waltz; and in Lycurgus' days,
When wrestling virgins sought the meed of praise,
"Twas danc'd, with ardour their firm breasts to fire,
And with due grace, and ease, their movements to inspire.
E'en fam'd Terpander in his tuneful lays,
Speaks of the Waltz, and gives it ev'ry praise;
And Pindar, more its merits to enhance,
Sings, melody and pleasure lead the dance.'
The Waltz then, now the fashionable bore,
Nearly coeval with the days of Noah,
Is made a question of, at this late season,
Whether it's reconcileable to reason!
Whether to virtue, morals, and such pother,
Or to be danc'd, except with son or brother.
"Tis said that folks may whisper as they dance,
Can that its danger or its guilt enhance?
What, if they whisper? can that be a reason !
We're very sure they will not whisper treason!
The Waltz is rather a firm bond of union,
Of friendship, love, and innocent communion!
And all that may promote good will, or harmony
Should welcome be from Scythia, Greece, or Germany.
For mine own part, the Waltzing I delight in,
It makes nights pass in love, instead of fighting;
Tho' now the source of bickerings without measure,
"Twas form'd to be the source of peace and pleasure,
To bid hearts join, as closely as the face,
And link souls firmly as the arms embrace!
To bid the ideas, just as the music, move
Responsive to the varied turns of love!
Such the intent; tho' dotards will pretend
They see a train of evils without end,
A mine of mischief, which exists alone
In the old muddled heads of Quiz, and Crone.
How can one hear without deep indignation
Arraign'd, this safe and modest recreation?
Hear those soft whispers, harmless, full of whim,
Call'd preludes, to a conversation crim?
Who ever dreamt a little sport in dancing
Could set the wits of maids and wives a prancing?
Who ever heard so shocking a construction?
Or in a dance read horror and destruction!
"Tis folly quite, and if not timely cur'd,
Must be, like other follies, long endur'd;
Since this old dance has now beconte the rage,
Respect it ladies, for its classic age.
If you are women, don't give up the fashion!
Dance, dance the Waltz, and dance it in a passion':
Dance it with spirit, and with ease, d'ye see,
Dance it with grace,-I mean, that's dance it free;
There's no harm in the Waltz, in that with me
All Fathers of a Family' agree!
Guard it ye fair ones free from innovation,
As firmly as a charter of the nation!
Never give up a privilege, I pray,
In love-and dancing, bear your sovereign sway.
Now farewell Waitz, and may it ever be
Your fate to meet with champions such as me;
So should you flourish long as you deserv'd,
And Britain's ancient manners be preserv'd.
AVEC un peu d'adresse on peut tout altérer;
Mais la vérite reste; il faut la déclarer.
Nou, la Waltz n'est point cet exercise infame,
Où l'homme est sans pudeur, où la femme se pame.'
Ce sont des pas égaux, des airs harmonieux,
Où tout flatte l'oreille et tout doit plaire aux yeux;
La main couple léger, et qu'un bras seul enlace,
Se balance en tournant, et voltige avec grace.
L'heureux, à qui sa belle osa se confier,
Avec un tendre soin se plait à la guider;
Il affermit ses pas, il veille à sa défense;
Les Graces à l'amour inspirent la décence!
Ce n'est point en public, que le vil corrupteur
En attaquant les sens, cherche à corrompre un cœur;
Ce n'est point sous les yeux d'une sœur, d'une mere,
Qu'un jeune homme s'oublie, et devient témeraire;
Ces êtres sont trop chers: il veut les protéger,
Et pour leur honneur même, il doit se respecter.
Et parmi ces beautés, peut-etre il en est une,
Qui doit fixer un jour, son cœur et sa fortune;
Ira-t-il, outrageant le berceau des amours;
De son bonheur futur, empoisonner le cours ?
Malgré les préjugés et la sotte-ignorance,
Ce plaisir n'a donc rien qui coute a la décence;
Les Russes, les Germains, Walsent dans leur pays,
Le bon sens, la pudeur en sout ils donc bannis?
Alluding to a defence of the Waltz, published under that signature.—ED.
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