  Borne on like a bubble In bright little trouble My elf child glimmers and goes; As glad as a throstle Whose tremolos jostle The rain on the leaf of a rose. He comes in a twinkling, With never an inkling That law is not one with his word; But gives me good wages, The penny of ages— Love wild as the heart of a bird. He laughs down my quiet, This lord of the riot, This Prince of the Kingdom of Whim; The world is his castle, And I am his vassal To trumpet the triumphs of him!
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