King Phœbus came forth in his splendour
Bedight in his garments of gold,
And round the young treelings so tender,
His raiments of rays did enfold—
Round Hebe, the young and the slender,
His mantle of magic he roll’d,
To keep her from blight and defend her
From sorrow, temptation, or cold.
And while he with Hebe was walking—
Whose face in the flow’rs was seen—