Now the white violets bloom, and now
The bluebells drink the rain,
And straying o'er the mountain's brow
The lilies flower again.
Spring perfumes sweet men's hearts enthral,
But Zeno's sweeter far than all.

In vain ye smile, O meadows gay!
The allurement of the rose
Outshines the blossoms ye display,
Her beauty warmer glows.
Lovers must choose my Zeno fair,
The rose of love beyond compare.