In Beauty’s land they call me Self-control.
Mine are these stores of treasures manifold.
[Pouring into her hands.]
My silver rusts not, nor my well-tried gold.
Latin. O thou dear child, that chose with me to come,
Now shall we reach the heights of Beauty’s home.
He that has climbed shall breathe the mountain air;
He that has learned shall read the pages fair,
Shall understand, shall learn himself to speak.
Fair are the flowers on the mountain peak!