Impassioned singer of the happy time. When all the world was waking into morn, And dew still glistened on the tangled thorn, And lingered on the branches of the lime — Oh peerless singer of the golden rhyme, Happy wert thou to live ere doubt was born — Before the joy of life was half out-worn, And nymphs and satyrs vanished from your clime. Then maidens bearing parsley in their hands Wound thro` the groves to where the goddess stands, And mariners might sail for unknown lands Past sea-clasped islands veiled in mystery — And Venus still was shining from the sea, And Ceres had not lost Persephone.SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
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