Song

Let the florid music praise,

The flute and the trumpet,

Beauty's conquest of your face:

In that land of flesh and bone,

Where from citadels on high

Her imperial standards fly,

Let the hot sun

Shine on, shine on.

O but the unlov'd have had power,

The weeping and striking,

Always; time will bring their hour:

Their secretive children walk

Through your vigilance of breath

To unpardonable death,

And my vows break

Before his look.