Poetry · Serenade

Serenade

So sweet the hour⁠—so calm the time,

I feel it more than half a crime,

When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,

To mar the silence ev’n with lute.

At rest on ocean’s brilliant dyes

An image of Elysium lies:

Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,

Form in the deep another seven:

Endymion nodding from above

Sees in the sea a second love.

Within the valleys dim and brown,

And on the spectral mountain’s crown,

The wearied light is dying down;

And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky

Are redolent of sleep, as I

Am redolent of thee and thine

Enthralling love, my Adeline.

But list, O list⁠—so soft and low

Thy lover’s voice tonight shall flow,

That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem

My words the music of a dream.

Thus, while no single sound too rude,

Upon thy slumber shall intrude,

Our thoughts, our souls⁠—O God above!

In every deed shall mingle, love.