Songs of A Wayfarer By William Davies |
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| XVIII. | XVIII. CARIOLA ALOLO. |
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 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
XVIII. CARIOLA ALOLO.
When the green grass is growing, gold daffodils blowing;
All dight for the dance the blithe virgin band;
Her form is the finest, her air the divinest:
Light of limb, slight of waist as a white willow wand.
And then for the pleasure her beaming eyes treasure;
For her low-flowing tresses what words shall I choose;
For her mouth's balsam-breathing, my ravished heart wreathing
With tender lips smiling of dainty sweet use?
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
All dight for the dance the blithe virgin band;
Her form is the finest, her air the divinest:
Light of limb, slight of waist as a white willow wand.
13
For her low-flowing tresses what words shall I choose;
For her mouth's balsam-breathing, my ravished heart wreathing
With tender lips smiling of dainty sweet use?
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
Dance over the meadow, through sunshine and shadow:
Fair is the fairest and foul far away.
Her bright beauty quaffing, right joyously laughing,
The sweet summer useth all the merry day.
The fountain is falling; the shrill lark is calling;
Rich melodies float from the borders of morn;
Blue bells athirsting; red peonies bursting
My beauty of beauties aglow to adorn.
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
Fair is the fairest and foul far away.
Her bright beauty quaffing, right joyously laughing,
The sweet summer useth all the merry day.
The fountain is falling; the shrill lark is calling;
Rich melodies float from the borders of morn;
Blue bells athirsting; red peonies bursting
My beauty of beauties aglow to adorn.
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
Full rivulets gushing and sparkling and rushing:
On the terrace the peacock his eyes to the sun:
By cypress and cedar what rare graces lead her,
As the doves in the boughs make melodious moan?
Through grotto, through dingle what crystals commingle
To make the pure liquid that laveth her feet:
What deities quiver and ripple the river,
Gliding ribbed sand tender kisses to greet?
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
On the terrace the peacock his eyes to the sun:
By cypress and cedar what rare graces lead her,
As the doves in the boughs make melodious moan?
14
To make the pure liquid that laveth her feet:
What deities quiver and ripple the river,
Gliding ribbed sand tender kisses to greet?
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
What bravest balladry wild with love's revelry,
Reeling in rapture to sonorous fall:
What buglehorns' sounding or tabors' rebounding
May herald her coming to bower and hall?
The stars stay their ringing to list to her singing,
Pausing in wonder, forgetting to shine:
Her marvellous beauty doth all their high duty;
Their brightness bedimmed in the light of her eyne.
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
Reeling in rapture to sonorous fall:
What buglehorns' sounding or tabors' rebounding
May herald her coming to bower and hall?
The stars stay their ringing to list to her singing,
Pausing in wonder, forgetting to shine:
Her marvellous beauty doth all their high duty;
Their brightness bedimmed in the light of her eyne.
To sound forth her praises and exquisite graces
Bring the shawm and the trumpet and the tambourine:
Cariola Alolo blow high and blow low:
Cariola Alolo, my heart's fair queen.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |