(After A picture.)
Oh! thou bright-beaming god, the
plains are thirsting,
Thirsting for freshening dew, and man is pining;
Wearily move on thy horses-
Let, then, thy chariot descend!
Seest thou her who, from oceans
Lovingly nods and smiles?-Thy heart must know her!
Joyously speed on thy horses,-
Tethys, the goddess, tis nods!
Swiftly from out his flaming chariot
Into her arms he springs,-the reins takes Cupid,-
Quietly stand the horses,
Drinking the cooling flood.
Now from the heavens with gentle
Balmy night appears, by sweet love followed;
Mortals, rest ye, and love ye,-
Phoebus, the loving one, rests!