And the wishes overflowing,Forcibly they'll bear thee high.
Unclouded and serene appear'd the sky.Nought but a veil of purest white she held,And round her in a thousand folds it swell'd.
By many a one who boasts thee as his own;Each eye believes that tow'rd thy form 'tis aim'd,
To the great archer--not to him
So many rascals could conceal!
With calm, unruffled brow;His features then I see,Distorted hideously,--
When day was smiling and bright,I've watch'd my mistress climbing
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