* Here still I reign, and, fresh in charms, My throne, like Magna Charta, raise 'Mong sturdy, free-born legs and arms, That scorn the threaten'd chaine Anglaise." 'Twas thus, she said, as 'mid the din The Squires and their Squiresses all, Already, as she tripp'd up stairs, She in the cloak-room saw assemblingWhen, hark! some new, outlandish airs, From the first fiddle, set her trembling. She stops-she listens-can it be? Alas, in vain her ears would 'scape it— It is "Di tanti palpiti,” As plain as English bow can scrape it. "Courage!" however,-in she goes, Oh for the lyre, or violin, Or kit of that gay Muse, Terpsichore, To sing the rage these nymphs were in, Their looks and language, airs and trickery. There stood Quadrille, with cat-like face, Her flounces, fresh from Victorine Her morals from the Lord knows where. And, when she danc'd—so slidingly, Her face the while, too, prim, sedate, So still, you'd hardly think 'twas going. Full fronting her stood Country Dance A fresh frank nymph, whom you would know For English, at a single glance English all o'er, from top to toe. A little gauche, 'tis fair to own, And rather giv'n to skips and bounces; Endangering thereby many a gown, And playing, oft, the dev'l with flounces. Unlike Mamselle-who would prefer (As morally a lesser ill) A thousand flaws of character, No rouge did she of Albion wear; Let her but run that two-heat race She calls a Set-not Dian e'er Came rosier from the woodland chace. Such was the nymph, whose soul had in't Which English maids call " Waterloo")— Like summer lightnings, in the dusk While to the tune of " Money Musk,"** "Heard you that strain—that joyous strain ? 'Twas such as England loved to hear, Ere thou, and all thy frippery train, Corrupted both her foot and ear "Ere Waltz, that rake from foreign lands, Presum❜d, in sight of all beholders, To lay his rude, licentious hands On virtuous English backs and shoulders- "Ere times and morals both grew bad, And, yet unpawn'd from bankers' dockets, Happy John Bull not only had, But danc'd to, Money in both pockets.' "Alas, the change!-oh Where is the land could 'scape disasters, Where such a Foreign Secretary, Aided by Foreign Dancing-masters? * An old English Country Dance. "Woe to ye, men of ships and shops, Rulers of day-books and of waves! Quadrill'd, on one side, into fops, And drill'd, on t'other, into slaves! "Ye, too, ye lovely victims, seen, And feet, in-God knows what position. "Hemm'd in by watchful chaperons, “Unable with the youth ador'd, In that grim cordon of Mammas, To interchange one tender word, Though whisper'd but in queue-de-chats. "Ah did you know how blest we rang'd, Ere vile Quadrille usurp❜d the fiddleWhat looks in setting were exchang`d, What tender words in down the middle! "How many a couple, like the wind, "How matrimony throve--ere stopp'd "While now, alas,-no sly advances- "Sir William Scott (now Baron Stowell) She ceas'd-tears fell from every Miss→ She now had touch'd the true pathetic :One such authentic fact as this Is worth whole volumes theoretic. Instant the cry was "Country Dance!" And lead her to her birth-right place. The fiddles, which awhile had ceas'd, And, for one happy night, at least, Old England's triumph was complete. RABELAIS AND THE LAMPREYS. Anonymous. WHEN the eccentric Rabelais was physician To Cardinal Lorraine, he sat at dinner Beside that gormandizing sinner, Not like the medical magician |