  ’TWAS morning when one found his way Within the garden lands of love. He lingered till he thought the day Should surely unto night yield sway. But morning’s sun still shone above In skies unmarred by evening’s gray, While on the air rang this refrain— ’Tis never night in love’s domain. Love’s palace beauteous is, and tall, And broad, and grand is his estate. Gay courtiers throng each spacious hall Where laughing echoes ceaseless fall And mock the silent outcast, hate, Who ever cowers by post and wall. And scowls as rings the glad refrain— ’Tis never night in love’s domain. And thence through groves with myrtle grown He followed Venus’ dove-drawn car By paths he ne’er before had known, And yet, the morning had not flown, And yet, fresh winds blew from afar As came, in ne’er decreasing tone, The song through which ran this refrain— ’Tis never night in love’s domain. Ah, love of mine, how well we know The glories of those garden lands Through which Lethean waters flow! Oft we have wandered to and fro Down those bright halls, and seen the hands Of tiny elves that beckoned so They kept the time to this refrain— ’Tis never night in love’s domain. |
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