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La mouche.
231
Cease drinking, laughter, jollity,
No longer love, no longer sing!"
Her belfry rings its peal of fear
At every flame of sweet alloy;
Permit her not to murmur here,
To murmur at our joy!

'Tis Reason! ah! beware, Lisette!
On thee she longs her sting to prove:
Ye powers! in that fair neck 'tis set—
The red blood springs, haste every Love!
Pursue the wretch's flight of fear,
And with your blows her life destroy;
Permit her not to murmur here,
To murmur at our joy!

Triumph! I see her drowning gasp
Deep in the cup Lisette hath poured,—
Triumph! to Pleasure's rightful grasp
Now let the sceptre be restored!
A zephyr shakes her crown with fear,
A fly can all our peace destroy,—
But fear no more its murmurs here,
Its murmurs at our joy!

THE END.