Blossoming tulips shimmer, cut through by alleys,
 where white statues stand between the yews,
 elegant fountains play with golden spheres in their pools,
 and, in the arbour, Sphinx lurks, waiting to frighten charmingly.
 
 The fair Chloe strolls today in the garden,
 at her side a cavalier to wait upon her courteously,
 and behind them Cupid creeps quietly,
 now hiding in the greenery, now aiming his bow.
 
 The cavalier bows with gallant endearments,
 and with her fan she strikes the scoundrel a few times,
 her taffeta dress rustles, his buckles twinkle,
 and often a genteel laugh rings out between them.
 
 But now there rises from the château as the sun sets
 a yearning minuet singing from a music-box.
 The arbor is so quiet; he tosses his handkerchief to the ground
 and falls to his knees with a tender air.
 
 "How much I've - ah! it's beginning to grow dark-"
 "So much more delightfully now I can see two stars glittering-"
 "Audacious cavalier!" - "Ah, Chloe - may I hope?"
 Then Cupid lets loose and fires, and hits his targets perfectly.