the fan.
23
Till the lay of love shall seem
Light and airy as its theme.
Light and airy as its theme.
Ah! not unto mortal wight
Wilt thou whisper, frolic sprite!
Fancy! wave thy fairy wing,
While the magic Fan I sing!
Wilt thou whisper, frolic sprite!
Fancy! wave thy fairy wing,
While the magic Fan I sing!
Airy minister of Fate,
On whose meaning motions wait
Half an hundred butterflies,
Idle beaux—more fond than wise—
Basking in the fatal smile
That but wins them to beguile!
Blest be they who fashion'd thee,
Beauty's graceful toy to be!
Virgin gold from Orient cave—
Veined pearl from ocean's wave—
Showing like her temples fair
Through her curls of lustrous hair—
Tints of richest glow and light
From a master's palette bright,
On the parchment rarely wrought,
Till the painting life has caught,—
On whose meaning motions wait
Half an hundred butterflies,
Idle beaux—more fond than wise—
Basking in the fatal smile
That but wins them to beguile!
Blest be they who fashion'd thee,
Beauty's graceful toy to be!
Virgin gold from Orient cave—
Veined pearl from ocean's wave—
Showing like her temples fair
Through her curls of lustrous hair—
Tints of richest glow and light
From a master's palette bright,
On the parchment rarely wrought,
Till the painting life has caught,—
