Perfumes blow from tender blooms
Thro' the leaves of young bamboo;
Willows wave their graceful plumes,
Brightly gemm'd with shinning dew.
Then haste away, 'Neath happy skies,
We'll chase with fans The butterflies.
The haste while the lark is singing
Where the flowr's are springing.
Come, the morn is fair!
Twilight falling o'er the stream
Starts us home in merry flight;
Willow plumes now gaily gleam
Hung with fireflies all alight.
Then haste we home while stars peep thro'
The feather'd leaves of young bamboo.
Then haste for the night is creeping
Where the flowr's are sleeping.
Come, the night is here, Come!
Cadman, Charles Wakefield, "Chinese Flower Fête" (1909). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 193.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.