Endearing Waltz--to thy more melting tune
Bow Irish jig, and ancient rigadoon.
Scotch reels, avaunt! and country-dance read more

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.

To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.

To brisk notes in cadence beating
Glance their many-twinkling feet.

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.

Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er,
And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more
read more

Such pains, such pleasures now alike are o'er,
And beaus and etiquette shall soon exist no more
At their speed behold advancing
Modern men and women dancing;
Step and dress alike express
Above, below from heel to toe,
Male and female awkwardness.
Without a hoop, without a ruffle,
One eternal jig and shuffle,
Where's the air and where's the gait?
Where's the feather in the hat?
Where the frizzed toupee? and where
Oh! where's the powder for the hair?

Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon read more

Twelve dancers are dancing, and taking no rest,
And closely their hands together are press'd;
And soon as a dance has come to a close,
Another begins, and each merrily goes.

And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say read more

And then he danced;--all foreigners excel
The serious Angles in the eloquence
Of pantomime;--he danced, I say right well,
With emphasis, and also with good sense--
A thing in footing indispensable:
He danced without theatrical pretence,
Not like a ballet-master in the van
Of his drill'd nymphs, but like a gentleman.

What! the girl I adore by another embraced?
What! the balm of her breath shall another man taste?
read more

What! the girl I adore by another embraced?
What! the balm of her breath shall another man taste?
What! pressed in the dance by another's man's knee?
What! panting recline on another than me?
Sir, she's yours; you have pressed from the grape its fine blue,
From the rosebud you've shaken the tremulous dew;
What you've touched you may take. Pretty waltzer--adieu!

And the dancing has begun now,
And the dancers whirl round gaily
In the waltz's giddy mazes,
read more

And the dancing has begun now,
And the dancers whirl round gaily
In the waltz's giddy mazes,
And the ground beneath them trembles.

Dancing is silent poetry.

Dancing is silent poetry.