Poems (Osgood)/Ellen Ardelle

by Frances Sargent Osgood

ELLEN ARDELLE.

a song.

There were music and mirth in the lighted saloon;
The measure was merry,—our hearts were in tune,—
While hand link'd with hand in the graceful quadrille,
Bright joy crown'd the dance, like the sun on the rill,
And beam'd in the dark eyes of many a belle;
But the star of the ball-room was Ellen Ardelle!

She tripp'd with the grace of a wild forest fawn,
Her locks wore the soft amber glow of the dawn,
Her cheek, the rich flush of a sunset in May,
And pure—like the star-light—her eyes' azure ray;
Light, light as a feather her fairy foot fell;
Oh! vision of loveliness! Ellen Ardelle!

There are hundreds as brilliant, as graceful and fair;
But who, with so touching, so winning an air?
When softly she raises those eyes of deep blue,
What soul can resist them!—I cannot,—can you?
Ah! light heart! beware the bewildering spell
That lurks 'neath the lashes of Ellen Ardelle!

No jewel she needs, her young beauty to light;
Her glance would out-glow it, if ever so bright.
Her blush is all feeling,—her smile is all love;
She is tender and faithful, and pure as the dove;
But timid and wild, like a mountain gazelle,—
What fond hand shall tame her,—Young Ellen Ardelle?