If but thy coats are reasonably high;
Thy breast, if bare enough, requires no shield:
Dance forth—sans armour thou shalt take the field,
And own—impregnable to most assaults,
Thy not too lawfully begotten "Waltz".
Hail, nimble nymph! to whom the young huzzar,
The whisker'd votary of waltz and war,
His night devotes, despite of spurs and boots;
A sight unmatch'd since Orpheus and his brutes:
Hail, spirit-stirring Waltz! beneath whose banners