[Reflections of a Belle, in] The young ladies' class book a selection of lessons for reading, in prose and verse |
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 | [Reflections of a Belle, in] The young ladies' class book |  |
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Reflections of a Belle.—
N. E. Weekly Review.
I'm weary of the crowded ball; I'm weary of the mirth,
Which never lifts itself above the grosser things of earth;
I'm weary of the flatterer's tone: its music is no more,
And eye and lip may answer not its meaning as before;
I'm weary of the heartless throng—of being deemed as one,
Whose spirit kindles only in the blaze of fashion's sun.
Which never lifts itself above the grosser things of earth;
I'm weary of the flatterer's tone: its music is no more,
And eye and lip may answer not its meaning as before;
I'm weary of the heartless throng—of being deemed as one,
Whose spirit kindles only in the blaze of fashion's sun.
I speak in very bitterness, for I have deeply felt
The mockery of the hollow shrine at which my spirit knelt;
Mine is the requiem of years, in reckless folly passed,
The wail above departed hopes, on a frail venture cast,
The vain regret, that steals above the wreck of squandered hours,
Like the sighing of the autumn wind above the faded flowers.
The mockery of the hollow shrine at which my spirit knelt;
Mine is the requiem of years, in reckless folly passed,
The wail above departed hopes, on a frail venture cast,
The vain regret, that steals above the wreck of squandered hours,
Like the sighing of the autumn wind above the faded flowers.
Oh! it is worse than mockery to list the flatterer's tone,
To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek must blush to own,—
To hear the red lip whispered of, and the flowing curl and eye
Made constant themes of eulogy, extravagant and high,—
And the charm of person worshipped, in a homage offered not
To the perfect charm of virtue, and the majesty of thought.
To lend a ready ear to thoughts the cheek must blush to own,—
To hear the red lip whispered of, and the flowing curl and eye
Made constant themes of eulogy, extravagant and high,—
And the charm of person worshipped, in a homage offered not
To the perfect charm of virtue, and the majesty of thought.
Away! I will not fetter thus the spirit God hath given,
Nor stoop the pinion back to earth that beareth up to heaven;
I will not bow a tameless heart to fashion's iron rule,
Nor welcome, with a smile, alike the gifted and the fool:
No—let the throng pass coldly on; a treasured few may find
The charm of person doubly dear beneath the light of mind
Nor stoop the pinion back to earth that beareth up to heaven;
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Nor welcome, with a smile, alike the gifted and the fool:
No—let the throng pass coldly on; a treasured few may find
The charm of person doubly dear beneath the light of mind
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