W Pstre Lauky, A Wy Hustym Njzka
Ye flower-clad meadows, and ye silent vallies,
Encircled round with verdure-covered trees:
O welcome, welcome, beauty's nymph, who sallies —
Throwing bright glances o'er your luxuries;
Is the stream brighter — are the flowers more fair —
Is the high poplar taller — doth the bird
Of the green wood sing sweeter to the air,
And gayer is the reaper's music heard?
Ye winds, bring all your odors — nymphs, that hide
Youselves in grottos, join in dance and song:
Lift up your heads, ye hills, in joy and pride —
Here all is harmony — the maid — the scene —
Here beauty is and incense — here have been —
Such goddess to such temple doth belong.
Encircled round with verdure-covered trees:
O welcome, welcome, beauty's nymph, who sallies —
Throwing bright glances o'er your luxuries;
Is the stream brighter — are the flowers more fair —
Is the high poplar taller — doth the bird
Of the green wood sing sweeter to the air,
And gayer is the reaper's music heard?
Ye winds, bring all your odors — nymphs, that hide
Youselves in grottos, join in dance and song:
Lift up your heads, ye hills, in joy and pride —
Here all is harmony — the maid — the scene —
Here beauty is and incense — here have been —
Such goddess to such temple doth belong.
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