  As when in summer-scented days gone by The court-musicians, dressed in velvets gay And golden silks, would on their gitterns play And blend their voices with the strings’ love-cry, So that the princess from her tower on high Might through the rose-framed window hear their lay, And make more splendid the resplendent day By leaning out, her choristers to spy; So now, with weary voice and violin, Two court-musicians rend the dusty air. Their shrill notes pierce the elevated’s din, And thrill a girl’s heart with a pleasure rare. For her has sweeter music never been; They never saw a princess half so fair. |
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