Sailors and Relatives, and Josephine.
Oh, joy! oh, rapture unforeseen!
For now the sky is all serene;
The god of day—the orb of love,
Has hung his ensign high above,
The sky is all a-blaze.
With wooing words and loving song,
We’ll chase the lagging hours along.
{I find}
And if {we find} the maiden coy,