With the most enchanting sound.
Beauteous were they all—but one so
More than all the other eleven,
Youngest she, he sighed to clasp her
To his ardent, glowing breast.
Up he rose from his concealment,
From his flower-encircled bed;
But, as quick-eyed birds, they spied him,
Stepped into the car and fled.
Fled into the starry heavens,