1 As the flower that blooms bright on the mountain or lea, Is the legate, whom charged with high mission we see. With his suite, all alert and aye watchful he hies, That his hand may achieve what his heart shall devise.

2 "Fresh and young are my steeds," so he sang as he sped "And the six reins in hand look with ointment o'erspread. So hurrah! my good horses, dash on at your best, As now here, and now there, I am pushing my quest.

3 "Many-spotted my coursers, whose hues finely blend, And the six reins in hand, soft as silk, freely bend. So hurrah! my good horses, strain tendons and thews, As now here, and now there, I am searching for news.

4 "With black manes and white coats are the steeds of my car, And the gleam of the six glossy reins shines afar. So hurrah! my good horses, ply muscle and leg, As now here, and now there, for wise counsel I beg.

5 "Dark, with white interspersed, are the coursers I drive; 'Gainst my hands, the reins grasping, in vain would they strive. So hurrah! my good horses, speed onwards and fly, As now here, and now there much inquiring I pry."