When Stella waves this little wand
Twenty pairs of wings expand,
Twenty sylphs prepared to please
Bring at her wish, the mimic breeze.
Sweet and bland the air they bring
On each gossamery wing.
And while the gay aerial band
Obeys the motion of her hand
Fancy may whisper in her ear
That Moth, her little friend is near
And Fancy too may hear the song
She sings the flattering crowd among.
Happy month, and happy year!
That Stella to the world was given!
But most this day be ever dear,
That brought the precious gift from heaven.
May no malignant cloud obscure!
Oh! may she never shine in vain
Long be her course, and bright and pure,
Till she her native skies regain!