We have come to fetch the bride;
Hark the bells! thy horse is waiting,
To Carcheto thou must ride,
There to stand before the altar
With the bridegroom by thy side.
—Thou movest not, thou speakest not,
She will not ope her eyes;
Thy little hands are bound, Chili,
Thy little feet are bound, Chili;
Sisters, she fain would go with us,