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the fan.
All have made thee plaything fit,
For a maiden's grace and wit.
She can teach thee witchery's spell,
Make thy lightest motion tell,
Bid thee speak, though mute thou art,
All the language of the heart.
For a maiden's grace and wit.
She can teach thee witchery's spell,
Make thy lightest motion tell,
Bid thee speak, though mute thou art,
All the language of the heart.
When her eyes say softly "yes,"
Thou canst hide and yet express
All the enchanting blush would speak
While it warms her modest cheek,
And thy motion well can show,
With one flutter to or fro,
Her disdain's indignant "no."
Thou canst hide and yet express
All the enchanting blush would speak
While it warms her modest cheek,
And thy motion well can show,
With one flutter to or fro,
Her disdain's indignant "no."
Queen of fans! the downy pressure
Of her snow-white, dimpled hand,
As it clasps the costly treasure,
Wrought in India's glowing land,
Has it not a soul impress'd
On the toy by her caress?
Of her snow-white, dimpled hand,
As it clasps the costly treasure,
Wrought in India's glowing land,
Has it not a soul impress'd
On the toy by her caress?
Ah! what ministry divine,
Frail, yet love-taught fan, is thine!
Frail, yet love-taught fan, is thine!
