The fashion hails—­from countesses to queens,
  And maids and valets waltz behind the scenes;
  Wide and more wide thy witching circle spreads,
  And turns—­if nothing else—­at least our heads;
  With thee even clumsy cits attempt to bounce,
  And cockneys practise what they can’t pronounce. 
  Gods! how the glorious theme my strain exalts,
  And rhyme finds partner rhyme in praise of “Waltz!”

  Blest was the time Waltz chose for her debut: 
  The court, the Regent, like herself, were new,
  New face for friends, for foes some new rewards;
  New ornaments for black and royal guards;
  New laws to hang the rogues that roar’d for bread;
  New coins (most new) to follow those that fled;
  New victories—­nor can we prize them less,
  Though Jenky wonders at his own success;
  New wars, because the old succeed so well,
  That most survivors envy those who fell;
  New mistresses—­no, old—­and yet ’tis true,
  Though they be old, the thing is something new;
  Each new, quite new—­(except some ancient tricks),
  New white-sticks, gold-sticks, broom-sticks, all new sticks! 
  With vests or ribbons, deck’d alike in hue,
  New troopers strut, new turncoats blush in blue;
  So saith the muse! my ——­, what say you? 
  Such was the time when Waltz might best maintain
  Her new preferments in this novel reign;
  Such was the time, nor ever yet was such: 
  Hoops are no more, and petticoats not much: 
  Morals and minuets, virtue and her stays,
  And tell-tale powder—­all have had their days. 
  The ball begins—­the honours of the house
  First duly done by daughter or by spouse,
  Some potentate—­or royal or serene—­
  With Kent’s gay grace, or sapient Glo’ster’s mien,
  Leads forth the ready dame, whose rising flush
  Might once have been mistaken for a blush,
  From where the garb just leaves the bosom free,
  That spot where hearts were once supposed to be;
  Round all the confines of the yielded waist,
  The stranger’s hand may wander undisplaced;
  The lady’s in return may grasp as much
  As princely paunches offer to her touch. 
  Pleased round the chalky floor how well they trip,
  One hand reposing on the royal hip: 
  The other to the shoulder no less royal
  Ascending with affection truly loyal! 
  Thus front to front the partners move or stand,
  The foot may rest, but none withdraw the hand;
  And all in turn may follow in their rank,
  The Earl of—­Asterisk—­and Lady—­Blank;
  Sir—­Such-a-one—­with those of fashion’s host,
  For whose blest surnames—­vide Morning Post
  (Or if for that impartial print too late,
  Search Doctors’ Commons six months from my date)—­
  Thus all and each, in movement swift or slow,
  The genial contact gently undergo;
  Till some might marvel, with the modest