University of Virginia Library

ODE. On being present at a Young Ladies' Ball, in Leamington Spa, Warwickshire.

Oh! we may traverse earth's wide round,
Before a sight more pure is found
Than where (sweet balm for each alloy!)
Youth, innocence and beauty, bound
Through life's brief paths of joy!
I came, a pilgrim to the scene,
My spirit vex'd, my vision tir'd
With all the follies that have been,
Which men deem joys;—my soul desir'd
A pleasure calmer, purer far,
Than riot, from her headlong car,
Bestows on thosè she seeks to cheer;
I came, and oh! I found it here!
How redolent are childhood's joys
With all that's dear and bright;
Yielding a sweet that never cloys,
A bliss, no after-thought destroys!
An exquisite delight!
The smile upon the cheek of youth
Can only spring from joy and truth;
It is the sunny beam that plays
Where waters smoothly flow,
And, caught from heav'n, its cheering rays
To-morrow may again bestow.
Ah! how unlike the worldling's smile,
Which only gleams but to beguile,
Hides pangs remorse may wake;
Like to those fatuus fires that gleam
On the dank breast of stagnant stream,
Or foul, mephitic lake.
The sports of innocence and youth,
Flash with the diamond force of truth;
We know their joy hath no alloy,
No retrospection will destroy;
And, as that flower, which still, at night,
Sheds all around sweet sparks of light,
Which it has caught by day;
So they beam back youth's noon again,
And light up every darker vein
With pleasure's purest ray:
We catch from innocence its rest,
Inhale from youth its glee;
And feel that glow within the breast
Which long had ceas'd to be!
But see the graceful group advance!
Breathing with mirth and love;
Prepar'd to weave the mazy dance,
Harmoniously they move!
O'er every limb is music playing,
They glide like sylphs o'er æther straying;
Or, like Diana's nymphs at sport,
Or, fairies holding some high court;—
Now through arcaded arms they rove;
The Nereïdes, from coral caves,
That swim in moon-light o'er the waves,
Lur'd by the Syren train,
(Charming the Tritons gazing nigh,)
Glide not more undulating by,
Nor to a sweeter strain.
Streaming so softly, lightly on
To sounds methinks that well had won
Eurydice again.
Now, form the elder nymphs a grove,
Where younger beauty seems to move,
Through smiles of light, on either side,
The gladdening light of joyful eyes,
For all will gain an equal prize,
All feel an equal pride.
And down that grove the younger band
Trip on like elves in magic land,
Whose footsteps only fall on flowers,
Lifting them sweetly up again,
Some fairer blossom's step to gain
In those enchanting bowers.—
Chasing each other, on they come,
Then, all in mingled forms, they roam,
A beautiful confusion!
Till like a rocket to the sight,
They shoot into a star of light,
A lucid sweet conclusion.
How does that motion soothe and please
Where all is melody and ease;
In Beauty's curve they move, they form,
For, no sharp angle dares deform,
No step abrupt appear.
As soft they glide as rill through valley,
Which though it joys in antic sally,
Still lulling is and clear;
Nor want those nymphs each livelier step,
Now in the frolic waltz they twine,
Now in the gay quadrille they join,
In giddy reel they trip.
But hold! enchanting every one,
The stately minuet is begun!
The genius of the night advances.
Oh! dance of dignity and grace,
Thou hast but ill resigned thy place
To fashion's lighter dances;
Thy steps that sentiment impart,
Thy movements, minuet of the heart,
Thy elegant, thy courtly train,
That brings us back old times again;—
Spreading its folds in graceful flow,
Following the steps like hand-maid fair,
And giving that commanding air
Our days do not bestow.
When didst thou e'er yield more delight
Than by thy mastery to-night?
But who are these, the sister two,
Whom each perfection seems to woo?
How elegantly light they come,
Sweet daughters of Terpsichore,
The goddess' self they seem to be,
And sport from them gains dignity,
Taste finds a lasting home.
Twin fav'rites of the Graces they,
The muse of motion owns their sway,
Upon their steps she waits;
Oh! ever be their hearts as light
And gay, as on this happy night;
Grant it ye guardian fates!
See, now they come like Gades' maids,
And, oh! like them in Cadiz' shades,
Off, to the blythe bolero, set
And click the sprightly castagnet.
Now to the master's strain they give
A form! it moves! it speaks! alive!
It darts upon the eye and ear.
Votaries of riot, fashion, come—
See where pure taste has found a home,
See joy's refinement here!
Sweet nymphs! from whose delight to-night
My soul in turn has caught delight,
Accept this tribute-lay;
Still feel the bliss that you feel here,
Still be its source as pure and clear,
Thus does a Poet pray!
How swift this night of joy has past,
How long in memory it will last!