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Fullness waxes in my breastOf emotions social, blest;Friendship's nurtured膌ove awakes,--And the silence Phoebus breaksOf his mountains, of his vales,Sweetly blow the balmy gales;All for whom he shows affection,Who are worthy his protection,Gladly follow his direction.

When the woman saw that mournful letter,Fervently she kiss'd her two sons' foreheads,And her two girls' cheeks with fervour kiss'd she,But she from the suckling in the cradleCould not tear herself, so deep her sorrow!So she's torn thence by her fiery brother,On his nimble steed he lifts her quickly,And so hastens, with the heart-sad woman,Straightway tow'rd his father's lofty dwelling.

In the gardenI was a-standing,And the bee thereSaw as well,Buzzing, humming,Going, coming,And buildingHis cell.