SECOND INTERLUDE.

MEN _and_ WOMEN (_dressed as Moors_).


FIRST MOORISH WOMAN.
When blooms the spring of life,
The golden harvest reap.
Waste not your years in bootless strife,
Till age upon your bodies creep.
But now, when shines the kindly light,
Give up your soul to love's delight.

No touch of sweetest joy
This longing heart can know,
No bliss without alloy
When love does silent show.

Then up, ye lads and lasses gay!
The spring of life is fair;
Cloud not these hours with care,
For love must win the day.

Beauty fades,
Years roll by,
Lowering shades
Obscure the sky.
And joys so sweet of yore