Lord of day we are Thine!
On our path deign to shine—
Holy Light!
Mortals glory in Thy might.
When night flees before Thy ray
We our voices lift, and pray—
Great Light!
Scarce rose the sun when crowds on sport intent,
From every door in quest of pleasure went;
All left their homes the time to pass away,
And on the air rang many a joyous lay
Of boy and girl who simple frolic sought,
And gaily sang with little care or thought.
Hear life's jingle, come along!
All should mingle with the throng;
Clasp my hand, dear, haste with me—
Say not nay, for I love thee!
Quit thy nonsense or begone!
I am not thus lightly won.
Let's go onward to the dance,
Give me but one tender glance!
Cease thy teasing, I 'll not go!
'Tis decided, thou must know.
Hear life's jingle! join the throng;
Youth and pleasure stay not long.
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QUEEN MÓO'S TALISMAN.
