(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
crystal billows,
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
leaping,
Into her arms he springs,-the
reins takes Cupid,-
Quietly
stand the horses,
Drinking
the cooling flood.
Now from the heavens with gentle
step descending,
Balmy night appears, by sweet love
followed;
Mortals,
rest ye, and love ye,-
Phoebus,
the loving one, rests!
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