They took the yellow sparrows grey, who o’er earth’s surface rove,
And kiss’d their beaks and taught them how to pour forth notes of love.
Nightingales they became at once, whose tones so sweetly sound,
And fill each youthful heart with dreams of tenderness profound.
Now ev’ry morning they anoint the locks of Freya fair
With precious unguent, which embalms with fragrancy the air.
Once from the Disa in a shell they stole some drops of oil,
And pour’d them on a weed; a Julian flower repaid their toil:
But far too strong that odour proved; its strength prevails e’en now.
Some drops were left; with water mix’d upon the turf they throw