1.
Go, happy man, like th’ evening star
Whose beams to bridegrooms welcome are;
May neither hag nor fiend withstand
The power of thy victorious hand.
‖: Th’ uncharmed knights surrender now,
By virtue of thy raised bough. :‖
2.
Away, enchantments, vanish quite,
No more delay our longing sight;
Tis fruitless to contend with Fate,
Who gives us power against your hate.
‖: Brave knights, in courtly pomp appear,
For now are you long looked-for here. :‖