The spell is broken—Rise, I pray,
Oh, sweet song-maker.”
’Twas the King spoke, “Arise, I pray:
I make you Laureate this day;
My daughter’s hand, too, by the way,
Is yours—don’t wake her.”
The spell is broken—Rise, I pray,
Oh, sweet song-maker.”
’Twas the King spoke, “Arise, I pray:
I make you Laureate this day;
My daughter’s hand, too, by the way,
Is yours—don’t wake her.”