When the Balaika[7]

  Is heard o'er the sea,

I'll dance the Romaika

  By moonlight with thee.

If waves then advancing

  Should steal on our play,

Thy white feet in dancing

  Shall chase them away.[8]

When the Balaika

  Is heard o'er the sea,

Thou'lt dance the Romaika

  My own love, with me.

Then at the closing

  Of each merry lay,

How sweet 'tis, reposing

  Beneath the night ray!

Or if declining

  The moon leave the skies,

We'll talk by the shining

  Of each other's eyes.

Oh then how featly

  The dance we'll renew,

Treading so fleetly

  Its light mazes thro':[9]

Till stars, looking o'er us

  From heaven's high bowers,

Would change their bright chorus

  For one dance of ours!

When the Balaika

  Is heard o'er the sea,

Thou'lt dance the Romaika,

  My own love, with me.

* * * * *

How changingly for ever veers

The heart of youth 'twixt smiles and tears!

Even as in April the light vane

Now points to sunshine, now to rain.

Instant this lively lay dispelled

  The shadow from each blooming brow,

And Dancing, joyous Dancing, held

  Full empire o'er each fancy now.

But say—what shall the measure be?

  "Shall we the old Romaika tread,"

(Some eager asked) "as anciently

  "'Twas by the maids of Delos led,

"When slow at first, then circling fast,

"As the gay spirits rose—at last,

"With hand in hand like links enlocked,

  "Thro' the light air they seemed to flit

"In labyrinthine maze, that mocked

  "The dazzled eye that followed it?"

Some called aloud "the Fountain Dance!"—

  While one young, dark-eyed Amazon,

Whose step was air-like and whose glance

  Flashed, like a sabre in the sun,

Sportively said, "Shame on these soft

  "And languid strains we hear so oft.

"Daughters of Freedom! have not we

  "Learned from our lovers and our sires

"The Dance of Greece, while Greece was free—

  "That Dance, where neither flutes nor lyres,

"But sword and shield clash on the ear

"A music tyrants quake to hear?

"Heroines of Zea, arm with me

"And dance the dance of Victory!"

Thus saying, she, with playful grace,

Loosed the wide hat, that o'er her face

(From Anatolia came the maid)

  Hung shadowing each sunny charm;

And with a fair young armorer's aid,

  Fixing it on her rounded arm,

A mimic shield with pride displayed;

Then, springing towards a grove that spread

  Its canopy of foliage near,

Plucked off a lance-like twig, and said,

  "To arms, to arms!" while o'er her head

  She waved the light branch, as a spear.

Promptly the laughing maidens all

Obeyed their Chief's heroic call;—

Round the shield-arm of each was tied

  Hat, turban, shawl, as chance might be;

  The grove, their verdant armory,

Falchion and lance[10] alike supplied;

  And as their glossy locks, let free,

  Fell down their shoulders carelessly,

You might have dreamed you saw a throng

  Of youthful Thyads, by the beam

Of a May moon, bounding along

  Peneus' silver-eddied stream!

And now they stept, with measured tread,

  Martially o'er the shining field;

Now to the mimic combat led

(A heroine at each squadron's head),

  Struck lance to lance and sword to shield:

While still, thro' every varying feat,

Their voices heard in contrast sweet

With some of deep but softened sound

From lips of aged sires around,

Who smiling watched their children's play—

Thus sung the ancient Pyrrhic lay:—