From her we hold our precious right,
And here, thro’ live-long day and night, 15
She rules with modest sway.
Our carpet is our verdant sod;
A richer one was never trod
In prince’s proud saloon.
Purple, and gold, and spotless white, 20
And quivering shade, and sunny light,
Blend with the emerald green.
She opened for the mountain brook