  Love wakes and weeps While Beauty sleeps! O for music's softest numbers, To prompt a theme For Beauty's dream, Soft as the pillow of her slumbers! Through groves of palm Sigh gales of balm, Fire-flies on the air are wheeling; While through the gloom Comes soft perfume, The distant beds of flowers revealing. O wake and live! No dreams can give A shadowed bliss, the real excelling; No longer sleep, From lattice peep, And list the tale that Love is telling! |
|
