The Belles (1860)

I.

Hear the singing of the Belles--
Angel Belles!
What a world of happiness its harmony foretells!
How the music seems to tinkle,
In the icy air of night?
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to tinkle
With a crystaline delight:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of holy rhyme,
To the beatific symphony, that blesses while it swells
From those Belles, Belles, Belles, Belles,
Belles, Belles, Belles--
From the singing and the clinging of those Belles.


II.

Hear the laughing of the Belles--
Gaudy Belles!
What a world of merriment its melody foretells!
In the dazzling giddy light,
How they ring out their delight!
From the saucy, silly tones,
All out of tune,
What a foolish ditty drones
To the turtle dove that listens, while she moans
To the moon:
Oh! from out those laughing Belles
What a gush of thoughtlessness voluminously well,
How it swells!
And not dwells
On the future: How it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the clinging in the dancing
Of those Belles, Belles, Belles,
Of those Belles, Belles, Belles, Belles,
Belles, Belles, Belles,
To the flirting and coquetting of those Belles.


III.

Hear the boasting of the Belles--
Bloomer Belles!
What a world of solemn thought, immodesty compels:
In the startled ear o' nights,
How they scream for "Woman's Rights,"
Not much horrified to speak,
How they shriek, shriek, shriek,
Out of tune
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the men,
In a mad expostulation at the tyranny of men;
Speaking higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now, now to sit or never,
As the peers of the bearded men.
Oh! such Belles, Belles, Belles,
What a tale their terror tells
Of despair.
How the clang and clash and roar,
What a horror they out-pour,
From their bosoms with their palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By such wrangling
And such jangling,
How the danger ebbs and flows.
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In such chatter
And such clatter,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling of the anger of such Belles;
Of such Belles--
Of the Belles, Belles, Belles, Belles,
Belles, Belles, Belles,
In the clamor and the clangor of such Belles.


IV.

Hear the shouting of the Belles--
Brazen Belles!
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright,
At the wildness of laughter of their tone!
Its every sound that floats
Soon will be within their throats
But a groan.
And the people--ah! the people--
They that worship 'neath that steeple
With its Cone,
And who praying, praying, praying,
In that muffled monotone,
Should feel glory in once rolling
From these human hearts a stone--
Every one of them is woman--
Every one of them is human--
They have souls:
And their King it is controls:
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from these Belles!
And his merry bosom swells,
With the paean of these Belles!
And he dances and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a Babylonish rhyme,
To the paean of these Belles--
Of these Belles:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Hellish rhyme,
To the throbbing of these Belles--
Of the Belles, Belles, Belles,
To the sobbing of these Belles:
Keeping time, time, time.
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Hellish rhyme,
To the dancing of the Belles--
Of the Belles, Belles, Belles,
To the prancing of the Belles,
Of the Belles, Belles, Belles, Belles,
Belles, Belles, Belles.
To the moaning and the groaning of the Belles.