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Fair, fair on fleeting steed to see,
Boon Nature's child, nor less,
In gorgeous rooms, serene and free,
'Midst etiquette and dress!
Thrice happy who, amidst the form
And folly that must be,
Existence fresh, and true, and warm,
Shall, Lady, own in thee!
Such dreams, in gay saloon, of days
That shall be, 'midst the dance
And music, while I hear and gaze,
My silent soul entrance.
As here the harp thy fingers wake
To sounds melodious, he
To thy soul's touch shall music make,
And his enstrengthen thee.
The notes, diverse in time and tone,
The hearts shall image true,
That still, in some sweet ways unknown,
Their harmonies renew.
