| Citation |
VGW(HU.772.046
2 Apr 1772:41 (1079)
OCCASIONED BY A LADY'S FALLING ON HER FACE AS SHE DANCED AT
A PRIVATE BALL.
Iris, with every power to please,
Has all the graceful aids of art;
She speaks, she moves, with matchless ease,
Her voice, her air, alarms the heart.
While every eye her steps pursu'd,
As through the sprightly dance she shone,
. . . [10 lines]
She spoke, her son obey'd, and lo!
While yet the mazy dance they trace,
At Iris's feet he dropp'd a bow,
She tripp'd, and fell upon her face.
. . . [12 more lines]
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