Bring orange-blossoms fairly twined,
Fair-plaited wreaths to wreathe her hair,
Sweet-smelling garlands meet to bind
Her brows, and be out-glistened there;
Bring radiant blooms and jewels rare
Against the happy bridal day;—
A sound of parting thrills the air:—
Hearken a little to my lay.
Now, blossoms shine, but ye shall find
Beside her brow ye are not fair;
Breathe sweetly an' ye have a mind,
But with her breath can ye compare?
Bright garlands, ye less lovely are,
Nathless adorn her while ye may,—
Even now her thoughts are otherwhere:—
Hearken a little to my lay.
Now hasten, maids; the flowers wind
Amidst her hair with loving care:
Wind roses, for their red consigned
Beside her blushes to despair,
Such happy beauty doth she wear;
But haste,—her glad feet scarce will stay,
Nor us she heeds, for he is near:—
Hearken a little to my lay.
ENVOI.
He comes, they go, a blissful pair;
Full willingly she speeds away;
Full lightly heeds she this my prayer,—
Hearken a little to my lay.
