Bloom upon the robin's breast, on the leaflets high,
Bloom upon the maiden's cheek, in my heart a sigh;
These will come and these will pass, loveliness must die.

Song upon the white gum bough, in the fragrant air,
Songs of poets skyward gone floating everywhere,
Who shall free my captive song tangled in a snare?

Bloom and song be with me long, for if dispossessed
Love will pass on rapid wing, enter not my breast.
Lo—of beauty I am fain—Eros be my guest.