Pleasant Thought For The Morning

At four o'clock on a summer morning, The Sleep of love still lasts. Under the spinneys the dawn disperses scents Of the festive night. But down there in the huge workshop Near the Hesperidean sun, The carpenters in their shirtsleeves are already astir. Peaceful in the midst of their wilderness of foam, They are preparing the costly canopies Where the riches of the city Will smile beneath painted skies. Ah ! for these charming labourer's sakes Subjects of a king of Babylon, Venus ! leave Lovers for a little while, Whose souls are wearing crowns. O Queen of the Sheperds! Take strong liquor to the workers, So that their strength may be calmed Until the sea-bathe at noon.