And balance all—the even time
Will fill the measure to my rhyme.
(But when the floods shall see my wand,
Obedient to my one command,
They’ll very soon recede, you’ll find
As heretofore they have declined)
Once more, my cooing doves, once more
Go tell your love-lorn tales as round you soar.
They danced till the “Oracle” said they were through;