Life at Court — Budding into Opulence and Gaiety

Now hath he rumbling carriages,
And the white-crested steeds.
And lo! to come before the Chief
-.The Eunuch's pass one needs.

The varnish-tree adorns the slope,
The chestnut the moist ground. —
Here sit we now around our Chief,
And lutes are thrumming round.
If joy be not for present years,
What will fourscore have found?

The mulberry-tree adorns the slope,
The willow the wet plains. —
Here sit we now around our Chief,
And hear the organ's strains.
If pleasure be not for to-day,
Years pass, till nought remains.