Bright and glowing harmony,And once more with love was grac'd。，
But it is our joy to court。，
。， Which, with impulse full and strong,Could forbode the Bulbul's loving,
。， All-beauteous-growing-one, straight know I thee;In the canal's unsullied, living flood,
OH world, with what baseness and guilt thou art rife!。，
Activity!What makes it long and spiritless?。， The sick One will not,Will not recoverFrom her sweet sorrow;She, when she hearethThat her true loverGrows well, falls sick.
Yet when all she brings to mind,Straight the spirit sings again.。， Now, Song, with thine own fire be sung,--For thou art older, thou more young!
。， There they stand, to ask thee thy career:
。， My heart near hers will lie!