Takes homeward at night;Here see I enrapturedIn nets the birds captured!--
The pearl now glistens in our monarch's crown,With gentle gleam and loving look.
His late disaster heeds he;The moment that he bears the bell,
They arrive at their home, and their pitchers they placeBy the side of their parents, with fear on their face,
[The Chorus gradually approaches, from the distance.]
Ten years, alas, already!--turn'd from earth;We all, to our great joy, his precepts know,
Traced the figure of a lovely maiden,Fair in form, and clad in graceful fashion,Fresh the cheeks beneath her brown locks' ambush,And the cheeks possess'd the selfsame colourAs the finger that had served to paint them.
Within the tomb so lonely,
"Take, I entreat thee, some fruit out of the garden, my friendTake the ripest oranges, figs of the whitest; the ocean