Or those of Rhodope, thy favours I trace—
Not there to invoke thee I’d roam.
No! Reims sees thee reign sovereign lord o’er her hills;
There I offer my vows, and the nectar that thrills
To my soul I will seek close at home.
Whether Venus-like rising midst foam sparkling white,
Or wrapped in a mantle of rose rich and bright,
Thou seekest my senses to fire,
Come aid me to sing, for my Muse is full fain
To owe on this day each melodious strain