Maiden Ecstasy :: :: University of Virginia Library

Maiden Ecstasy

by Thomas Gordon Hake

Hake, Thomas Gordon (1809-1895)

THE DANCING GIRL.

THE CHILD OF ROMANCE.

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THE DANCING GIRL.

I

On tiptoe poised amid a world of Song
As though sweet sound allured her to the chase,
She steps into the dance, and threads a throng
Of limbs that dazzle space,
Till music drops and the tired notes among
She triumphs in the race.

II

As one whose heart o'erruns the pregnant chords
Of the soul's tongue, so glides the dancing girl
When passion's flood in music's steps she fords
With nimble, circling swirl
Of limbs more fluent than the flow of words,
As dizzily they whirl.

III

Sweet thought must through the spirit's darkness creep
Ere it see day; she all her being flings
Into the dance: the music's wondrous sweep
Unto her footfall clings,
And, as a nymph from out the billow leaps,
From her soul's fount she springs.

IV

Draped in her gossamer, where'er she goes
A pliant fold her inmost grace repeats,
While at her heart burns red the panting rose
That on her bosom beats:
But not the eyelash flame that hidden glows
One watchful lover meets.

V

None dare interpret all her limbs express,
That clad in music thus divinely move;
Those arms would all embrace, those lips caress
The heaven-descending dove:
More than the thought dare dream of they confess,
Because their art is love.

VI

At length she lifts her bashful eyes and sends
Their glory o'er the crowd that shouts her praise,
When in the midst is one who towards her bends
His soul's deep pitying gaze;
And that sad look her hour of triumph ends,
And thenceforth on her stays.

VII

That look 'mid crowded eyes, that only one,
She sees; all else around the arena reels;
And in that look entranced her power is gone;
Naught present else she feels;
Though to her heart she go to be alone,
That look to her appeals.

VIII

Her eyes, thus breaking once their bashful vow,
Are lost; that gaze has closed their little range:
A frown, like grief's, is narrowing her brow;
But most her smile is strange;
As stricken by that pitying look, so now
Its panic does not change.

IX

That eye which spoke a sorrow still is near;
Enough that once its gaze upon her came:
'Neath it the music staggers in her ear,
Yet fell it not in blame,
Though sank her feeble feet from her in fear,
Too weak to prop her shame.

X

The stage is gone; her homely griefs begin
Now nobler aims too late her heart controul:
Her face appears to steep itself in sin
Though innocent her soul,
Save that ere pride awoke she strove to win
The fascinating goal.

XI

But she has won the world; they cry aloud
To look upon her as they cross her door;
She is their idol; the deserted crowd
Must see her face once more:
Their goddess now, they call her from her cloud
That they may still adore.

XII

To her a minstrel sings with passion's voice,
‘Why hid'st thou from our sight, beloved bride?
Be at our feast, the world's desire rejoice,
All arms are opened wide;
The prince invites; oh! hearken to his choice,
He calls thee to his side!’

XIII

The pitying look is gone, and meets her sight
The large-eyed rapture of the minstrel's gaze:
Their eyes consent, and in a strange delight
She listens while he plays;
And love that singeth with a minstrel's might
Her fluttering heart obeys.

XIV

The crowd has borne her to the palace stairs:
She trembles and again her heart is sad;
But for the hour she casts away her cares,
For she sees others glad:
Ah! 'tis the minstrel who awaits her there,
In gold and purple clad!

XV

The gentle crowds attend her as their own;
Soft music sounds, and sylphs to her advance;
The minstrel leads her to a velvet throne
And looks upon the dance.
Lost in her wonder there she sits alone
And gazes through her trance.

XVI

Then saith the minstrel, ‘'Tis the prince commands:
Be it my part to play, to dance be thine.’
The silver chords are ringing in his hands;
She sees them flash and twine,
And can but listen, as she helpless stands,
To music's throb divine.

XVII

Still would she dance, but ravished at the sound
Seems held in some high snare above her thought;
The hall spreads out like heaven, its blessed bound
Into sky-music caught.
Her senses dance, but ever from the ground,
Such wonder love has wrought.

XVIII

Then knows he that his kingly spirit fills
Her perfect heart, and that his sorrowed eyes
Have lifted her to where her bosom thrills
And finds its paradise:
Himself the prince who loves her, and who wills
To win the beauteous prize.

XIX

His music ends; the spell has dropped; when, lo!
The hall of kings a sanctuary appears:
The sylphs, in double ranks, like vestals flow,
And each her cresset bears.
The broad-based altar-fire, with spiral glow,
A flame of love uprears.

XX

The organ speaks, when swells a solemn peal;
And fondly sings the choir, ‘Come forth, most Fair!
The minstrel pleads, he seeks of thee his weal,
He prays thy heart to share.’
More bright the altar burns, the lovers kneel
Upon the sacred stair.