Laughs for very love,
While the poplars, in their pleasure,
Wave their arms above. (Goes up stage and returns.)
Pol. and Pir. Yes, the trees, for very love,
Wave their leafy arms above,
River, river, little river,
May thy loving prosper ever.
Heaven speed thee, poplar tree;
May thy wooing happy be.
Gen.Yet, the breeze is but a rover;