The Madisonian

MHT
VOL. III.-NO. 113.]
[Fanny Elssler seems to be not less a favorite in
Philadelphia, than in our own commercial metropolis.
The Philadelphia Gazette, in its enthusiasm, says
"she awakens as many images of natural and classic
grace and beauty, as could have been conveyed, even
when they were most thickly peopled with the bright
dreams of a mysterious mythology, in Delphi and Do-
dona's woods of yore." It publishes the following
lines, which it pronounces fraught not merely with
that kind of rugged concord, so to speak, which be
longs to playful numbers, but with the philosophy
that pertains to an epigram:

TO FANNY ELSSLER.

Oh! ye nine muses, Oh! ye great inspirers
Of blockhead scribblers seeking for a rhyme,
Of "flying feet" no doubt ye are admirers,
And (pardon non) danced "once upon a time,"
Grant us a Homer, since we've carried off this
Fairer than Helen from admiring Paris.

Vive la belle Elssler! never yet did light
Upon our earth which she seems scarce to touch,
A Heavenly vision fairer or more bright
Than this, &c. I think so much
Of Burke's famed speech about the Queen of France
Is most appropriate to this Queen of Dance.

Happier than Philip's son, she here hath found
A new world—eager to receive
Old Europe's darling, echoing the sound
Of her loved name; such conquests to achieve
Is glorious: at each triumphant step attend her
Crowds, shouting "Bravo"—careless of all gender.

Great tragic actors, both from far and near.
Have vainly wooed us with a flaming play-bill,
And never drew or filled a single tier:
"Five acts" kill those who seek but Time to kill.
Performance was as empty as rehearsal,
They found the reason was—"distress commercial."

She comes! "Hard Times" no man e'er mentions
The only "Pressure" in the crowded Pit;
The only case deserving our attentions
Is to obtain sufficient room to sit.
I'm sure I love my relatives, and yet I'd rather
See Fanny's Grand Pas than my own grandfather.

Brief is our dream—soon will thy sylph-like form
Of grace and beauty, vanish from our sight,
Thy radiant smile, bright as the break of morn,
No more on us will shed its witching light:
Calm be thy course through life, and o'er the sea.
Kind wishes from our distant land will follow thee.

X. S.