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the birth of the callitriche.
And Dian—the queen of that graceful train,
Sails by in her silver shell,
While softly rises the choral strain,
With a rich and joyous swell.
Sails by in her silver shell,
While softly rises the choral strain,
With a rich and joyous swell.
Now, voice by voice they are dying away,
Till all save one are still,
And that sings on with a cadence glad,
lake the gush of a rippling rill.
Till all save one are still,
And that sings on with a cadence glad,
lake the gush of a rippling rill.
It comes from one of the beauteous seven,
The Pleiades pure and bright,
Who keep more fondly than all in heaven,
Unstain'd their urns of light.
The Pleiades pure and bright,
Who keep more fondly than all in heaven,
Unstain'd their urns of light.
She sings, as she bends o'er her burning vase,
And she sees in the wave below
Her beaming smile, and her form of grace,
And her soft hair's golden flow.
And she sees in the wave below
Her beaming smile, and her form of grace,
And her soft hair's golden flow.
But hark! a voice from the waters clear,
And the Pleiad leans to listen,
With a glowing cheek and a charmed ear,
And eyes that tenderly glisten.
And the Pleiad leans to listen,
With a glowing cheek and a charmed ear,
And eyes that tenderly glisten.
