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. While thus, with unresisted art, The Enchantress melted every heart, Amid the glance, the sigh, the smile, Herself, unmoved and cold the while, With inward pity eyed the scene, Where all were subjects—she a Queen! Again, I saw that Lady fair: Oh! what a beauteous change was there! In a sweet cottage of her own She sat, and she was all alone, Save a young child she sung to rest On its soft bed, her fragrant breast. With happy smiles and happy sighs, She kissed the infant's closing eyes, Then, o'er him in the cradle laid, Moved her dear lips as if she prayed. She blessed him in his father's name: Lo! to her side that father came, And, in a voice subdued and mild, He blessed the mother and her child! I thought upon the proud saloon, And that Enchantress Queen; but soon, Far-off Art's fading pageant stole, And Nature filled my thoughtful soul!