O maiden mine, with passionate pale cheek,
And silver-sandalled foot so tender-hued,
It is not meet that we should sit and brood:
Let's hokey-pokey till the light grows weak!

So stick your left foot in and take it out,
With rapturous bliss at such insouciant fun:
Our two hearts pulse, by wondering love made one;
We shake our limbs with an impetuous shout!

O fondest thought of youth imperishable!
With cumbrous tread, we press the quivering grass
Till vesperal chanting fills the darksome air:

And join me once again, be charitable;
Consent with me these hastening hours to pass,
Most beauteous maiden, fugitive and fair!