Along the raised banks of the Joo,
To hew slim stem and branch I wrought,
My lord away, my husband true,
Like hunger-pang my troubled thought!

Along the raised banks of the Joo,
Branch and fresh shoot confessed my art.
I've seen my lord, my husband true,
And still he folds me in his heart.

As the toiled bream makes red its tail,
Toil you, Sir, for the Royal House;
Amidst its blazing fires, nor quail:--
Your parents see you pay your vows.