ESTELLA
Chapter 1
(The ballroom)
(The ballroom)
A mingling of soft colors and the sound
Of footsteps echoing to a rapturous strain,
The rustle of rich silken robes, the air
Perfumed with flowers, awoke the notes again
And bore them out upon the balmy breeze;
The light of laughing eyes, of merry hearts,
The gleam of jewels clasped in waving hair
Spake but of Pleasure and of Beauty's reign
While flew the unmeasured moments unaware.
Of footsteps echoing to a rapturous strain,
The rustle of rich silken robes, the air
Perfumed with flowers, awoke the notes again
And bore them out upon the balmy breeze;
The light of laughing eyes, of merry hearts,
The gleam of jewels clasped in waving hair
Spake but of Pleasure and of Beauty's reign
While flew the unmeasured moments unaware.
To the gay revelers who thronged the hall
Forgotten were the problems of the day,
Care fled like darkness from the tapers' glance,
Light, jest and laughter filled the thoughtless hours
While light feet caught the spirit of the dance,
And so the eve flew onward to the dawn.
Forgotten were the problems of the day,
Care fled like darkness from the tapers' glance,
Light, jest and laughter filled the thoughtless hours
While light feet caught the spirit of the dance,
And so the eve flew onward to the dawn.
A group beneath a canopy of flowers
Gathered around the ballroom's reigning belle,
From her acknowledged throne she viewed her slaves
And held them captive by a magic spell
While her devotees worshiped at her shrine.
Her brown eyes, pensive first and almost sad,
Bright as gems or twinkling as the stars;
Her wand, a lily clasped in dimpled hands,
Her hair fantastically wreathed with flowers
Seemed to have caught its lustre from the sun,
Flattery fell like music on her ear;
She spoke and many doubting hearts admired,
She smiled upon the captives she would win;
Gathered around the ballroom's reigning belle,
From her acknowledged throne she viewed her slaves
And held them captive by a magic spell
While her devotees worshiped at her shrine.
Her brown eyes, pensive first and almost sad,
Bright as gems or twinkling as the stars;
Her wand, a lily clasped in dimpled hands,
Her hair fantastically wreathed with flowers
Seemed to have caught its lustre from the sun,
Flattery fell like music on her ear;
She spoke and many doubting hearts admired,
She smiled upon the captives she would win;
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