FANNY.

———

BY MRS. MARY SUMNER.

———

A dancing shape, an image gay,

To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

Wordsworth.

I revel in my right divine—

I glory in Caprice.

Mrs. Osgood.

Have you seen the summer clouds

Troop along in rapid crowds,

Throwing shadows soft and warm,

Flitting ere you mark their form,

O’er some landscape still and sweet,

Where the wild and lovely meet,

Ravishing by turns the eye

With beauty and with mystery?

Dusky wood and rolling meadow

Bask in light or sleep in shadow,

And the river’s rippling wave,

Flashing smiles or chill and grave,

Fascinates the dazzled sight⁠—

In the flitting shade and light

All, howe’er familiar, seems

Magical as fairy dreams.

So do swift emotions chase

Over Fanny’s radiant face;

Such a fascination lies

In each change that o’er it flies,

Light and shadow, varying still,

Set at nought the painter’s skill,

And so beautiful their play,

That you would not bid to stay

E’en the grace that charms you most,

Lest a sweeter should be lost.

Vain to question what may be

The secret of her witchery;

Still her speaking face enchants us,

And her dancing figure haunts us,

And those dark Italian eyes

Like a thralling vision rise,

And we could not if we would

Break the spell her sunny mood

Flings upon the heart and brain;

With a triple-woven chain

Bindeth she our hearts to hers,

Turning friends to worshipers.

Her high soul, her feelings warm,

Even her gay caprices charm,

Startling you with fresh surprises,

As each impulse that arises

From her being’s depth displays

Yet another brilliant phase;

Crystal-like at every turn,

Rainbow glories flash and burn,

Till you see revealed her whole

Beautiful and gifted soul⁠—

Mirrored forth without disguise

From her large, impassioned eyes,

Full of warm and lustrous light,

That would witch an anchorite.

That mood passes, and no trace

Lingers on her chiseled face,

Only from that scaled book

Speaks the lofty lady’s look;

Dignity and quiet grace

Sit enthroned in form and face,

And a grave, commanding air

Bids the thoughtless one beware

How he scorn the high decree

Of her maiden sovereignty.

Then there comes a sudden thought,

With some merry meaning fraught,

Like a flash of meteor light,

As quick-glancing and as bright,

And her laugh, as sweet and free

As a child’s unthoughtful glee,

From her buoyant heart upswells,

Like clear-ringing fairy bells;

And the awe in which you stood

Of her stately womanhood,

Flies before that silvery laughter,

As if banished ever after.

Have you angered her quick spirit?

Touched her haughty sense of merit?

All on you will rest the shame,

All on you the heavy blame.

Nothing daunted, wait in hope

The turn of the kaleidoscope.

Like the bright blue after rain,

Comes her gladness back again;

Kindling eye and lip and cheek

All the same sweet language speak—

Welcome as the sunshine warm

Following a summer storm,

Welcome as the song of birds,

Her clear voice and friendly words!

Firm of purpose, proud and high,

With a flashing, dauntless eye,

Yet impulsive, gay and wild,

Now a queen and now a child,

Now a woman, mild and wise,

Strong to counsel and advise,

Full of nobleness and truth,

Of the generous zeal of youth,

So enchanting, so divine,

That of all who please and shine,

None can match her own sweet self;

Now a sportive, wilful elf,

Whose least word and will and way,

Strongest reasons oversway⁠—

Who can count on each vagary

Of the charming, changeful fairy?

Who can tell, when brightest beams

Her warm love upon your dreams,

At what moment words unmeant

May disturb the gracious bent

Of her fickle fantasy,

And chill shadows flitting by

All its splendor overcloud?

At what moment a quick crowd

Of unbidden, fitful feelings

May seal up the high revealings

That her soul’s deep voice had been,

And your spirit reveled in?

Yet you cannot choose but love her.

With a love that passes over

Whatsoe’er it cannot praise,

For the sake of her sweet ways.

Vow that you will never more

Such inconstant charms adore,

Never more your joy and peace

Rest upon her light caprice,

All your wise resolves are vain,

She will lure you back again;

With a single winning smile,

Trusting word and childlike wile,

Make you feel that love cannot

For such trifles be forgot⁠—

Looks so bright and tones so sweet,

Mortal could not coldly meet;

Wild as ever your love burns,

And your heart as fondly turns

To the wayward, witching creature,

As if every changing feature

Her impulsive being owned,

Howsoe’er it vex and wound,

In her gracious mood became

One to praise instead of blame.