And now she leaves me all alone to cry!
What shall I do? How shall I ever come
Where Beauty bright, and Goodness, have their home?
—I’ll call for Joy! She has bright hair of gold,
Sweet songs, and dancing footfalls, so I’m told.
Joy! O Joy! [No answer.]
“Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity;
Quips and cranks, and wanton wiles,
Nods and becks and wreathèd smiles,