Art And Nature

Sylph-like, and with a graceful pride,

I saw the wild Louisa glide

Along the dance's glittering row,

With footsteps soft as falling snow.

On all around her smiles she poured,

And though by all admired, adored,

She seemed to hold the homage light,

And careless claimed it as her right.

With syren voice the Lady sung:

Love on her tones enraptured hung,

While timid awe and fond desire

Came blended from her witching lyre.