The nimblest are not too fleet.
Greet him, with raptures greet him,
With songs and with twinkling feet.
He approaches,—throw flowers before him.
Throw poppy and lily and rose;
Blow faster, gay pipers, faster,
Till your mad music throbs and flows,
For his glory and ours flies through Hellas,
Wherever the Sun-King goes.
Io! Io, pæan! crown with laurel and myrtle and pine,