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.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.

On with the dance! let joy be unconfin'd;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet.

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.

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love read more

A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.

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.

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?

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

Come, knit hands, and beat the ground
In a light fantastic round.

Dancing is silent poetry.

Dancing is silent poetry.

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.