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.

Hot from the hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.

Hot from the hands promiscuously applied,
Round the slight waist, or down the glowing side.

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine read more

Imperial Waltz! imported from the Rhine
(Famed for the growth of pedigrees and wine),
Long be thine import from all duty free,
And hock itself be less esteem'd than thee.

Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad

Those who hear not the music think the dancers mad

No Sane man will dance.

No Sane man will dance.

Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of read more

Dear creature!--you'd swear
When her delicate feet in the dance twinkle round,
That her steps are of light, that her home is the air,
And she only par complaisance touches the ground.

Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the read more

Alike all ages: dames of ancient days
Have led their children through the mirthful maze,
And the gay grandsire, skill'd in gestic lore,
Has frisk'd beneath the burden of threescore.

This dance of death which sounds so musically
Was sure intended for the corpse de ballet.

This dance of death which sounds so musically
Was sure intended for the corpse de ballet.

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!