The magic wine! A thousand generations shall pass
COURTIER.
Or ever the springtime of your glory fade.
ROSEI.
I bountiful ...
COURTIER.
Your people prosperous.
CHORUS.
For ever and ever
The land secure;
The flower of glory waxing;
The “herb of increase,” joy-increasing
Into the cup we pour.
See! from hand to hand it goes.
“I will drink,” he cries.