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54
FRANCIS KAZINCZI.
Our water's of crystal,
Where shelter'd we dwell;
And the arrows have miss'd all
From Phoebus that fell.
Poseidon, the brother
Of Jove, is our sire,
Our guardian—no other
We own nor desire;
Each Nereid and Triton
Belongs to our band.
When Sirius shines bright on
The ocean and land,
The Gods spread their curtain
Their favorites to shield;
All danger averting
On fountain and field.
So thanks, cordial thanks, to the thunderer of heaven,
Who pour'd out the waves where we thrive and have
thriven;
All honor and praise to his wisdom be given.
Brekeke, brekeke, brekeke;
Koax, koax—too-oo, too-oo!
Be still, all ye dwellers
The waters among:
Hark! hark! the excellers
In music and song—
We, taught by Apollo,
