In ancient times (fuch times are now no more)
When ALBION's crown illuftrious ARTHUR wore,
In fome fair op'ning glade, each summer's night,
Where the pale moon diffus'd her filver light,
On the foft carpet of a graffy field,
The fporting Fairies their affemblies held:
Some lightly tripping with their pigmy queen,
In circling ringlets mark'd the level green,
Some with soft notes bade mellow pipes refound,
And music warble thro' the groves around;
Oft lonely shepherds by the forest fide,
Belated peasants oft their revels fpy'd,
And home returning o'er their nut-brown ale,
Their guests diverted with the wond'rous tale.
Inftructed hence, throughout the British isle,
And fond to imitate the pleasing toil,
Round where the trembling may-pole fix'd on high,
Uplifts its flow'ry honours to the sky,
The ruddy maids and fun-burnt swains resort,
And practise ev'ry night the lovely sport;
On ev'ry fide Æolian artists ftand,
Whose active elbows fwelling winds command;
The swelling winds harmonious pipes inspire,
And blow in ev'ry breaft a gen'rous fire.
Thus taught, at first the Country-dance began,
And hence to cities and to courts it ran;
Succeeding ages did in time impart
Various improvements to the lovely art;
From fields and groves to palaces remov'd,
Great ones the pleafing exercise approv'd:
Hence the loud fiddle, and fhrill trumpet's founds,
Are made companions of the dancer's bounds;
Hence gems and filks, brocades and ribbons join,
To make the ball with perfect lustre shine.
So rude at first the Tragic muse appear'd,
Her voice alone by ruftic rabble heard,
Where twisting trees a cooling arbour made,
The pleas'd spectators fat beneath the shade;
The homely stage with rufhes green was strew'd,
And in a cart the ftrolling actors rode:
Till time at length improv'd the great design,
And bade the scenes with painted landskips shine;
Then art did all the bright machines dispose,
And theatres of Parian marble rofe,
Then mimic thunder fhook the canvas sky,
And Gods defcended from their tow'rs on high.
With caution now let ev'ry youth prepare
To chufe a partner from the mingled Fair;
Vain wou'd be here th' inftructing Mufe's voice,
If the pretended to direct his choice:
Beauty alone by fancy is expreft,
And charms in diff'rent forms each diff'rent breaft
A fnowy skin this am'rous youth admires,
Whilft nut-brown cheeks another's bofom fires, Small waifts, and flender limbs fome hearts infnare, Whilft others love the more fubftantial Fair.
But let not outward charms your judgment fway, Your reason rather than your eyes obey, And in the dance as in the marriage noose, Rather for merit, than for beauty, choose:
Be her your choice, who knows with perfect skill
When she should move, and when she should be still,
Who uninftructed can perform her share,
And kindly half the pleafing burthen bear.
Unhappy is that hopeless wretch's fate,
Who, fetter'd in the matrimonial state
With a poor, fimple, unexperienc'd wife,
Is forc'd to lead the tedious dance of life;
And fuch is his, with fuch a partner join'd,
A moving puppet, but without a mind:
Still muft his hand be pointing out the way,
Yet ne'er can teach so fast as she can stray;
Beneath her follies he must ever groan,
And ever blush for errors not his own.
But now behold united hand in hand,
Rang'd on each fide, the well-pair'd couples ftand!
Each youthful bosom beating with delight,
Waits the brifk fignal for the pleasing sight;
While lovely eyes, that flash unusual rays,
And snowy bofoms pull'd above the stays,
Quick bufy hands, and bridling heads declare
The fond impatience of the starting Fair.
And fee, the sprightly dance is now begun!
Now here, now there the giddy maze they run,
Now with flow steps they pace the circling ring,
Now all confus'd, too swift for fight they spring:
So, in a wheel with rapid fury toft,
The undiftinguifh'd spokes are in the motion loft.
The dancer here no more requires a Guide,
To no ftrict steps his nimble feet are ty'd,
The Mufe's precepts here would ufelefs be,
Where all is fancy'd, unconfin'd, and free;
Let him but to the mufic's voice attend,
By this inftructed he can ne'er offend;
If to his share it falls the dance to lead,
In well-known paths he may be fure to tread ;
If others lead let him their motions view,
And in their steps the winding maze pursue.
In every Country-dance a serious mind,
Turn'd for refleAion, can a moral find,
In Hunt-the-Squirrel thus the nymph we view,
Seeks when we fly, but flies when we pursue:
Thus in round-dances where our partners change,
And unconfin'd from Fair to Fair we range,
As foon as one from his own confort flies,
Another feizes on the lovely prize;
A while the fav'rite youth enjoys her charms,
Till the next comer fteals her from his arms,
New ones fucceed, the laft is still her care;
How true an emblem of th' inconstant Fair!
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