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ALEXANDER KISFALUDY.
I. DAL. 154.
Mint tánczolt Ö́, a' Gráczia!
As the zephyrs, gay and airy,
Glance thro' nature's flowery hall;
So she glides—a graceful fairy,
Thro' the mazes of the ball.
O how stately are her paces!
O how princely is her gait!
All her path is led by graces,
Light and beauty on her wait.
And those lips that smile so brightly,
And that breast that heaves so lightly;
On how many hearts did she
Fling the chains of slavery!
