And perfumes rise from every grove,
As incense to the clouds that move
Like spirits o'er yon welkin clear,--
_But I am sad--thou are not here!_

'Tis Noon:--a calm, unbroken sleep
Is on the blue waves of the deep;
A soft haze, like a fairy dream,
Is floating over wood and stream;
And many a broad magnolia flower,
Within its shadowy woodland bower,
Is gleaming like a lovely star,--
But I am sad--_thou art afar!_

'Tis Eve:--on earth the sunset skies
Are painting their own Eden dyes;
The stars come down and trembling glow,
Like blossoms in the waves below;
And like an unseen sprite, the breeze
Seems lingering midst these orange trees,
Breathing its music round the spot,--
But I am sad--_I see thee not!_

'Tis Midnight:--with a soothing spell
The far-off tones of ocean swell--
Soft as a mother's cadence mild,
Low bending o'er her sleeping child;
And on each wandering breeze are heard
The rich notes of the mocking bird,
In many a wild and wondrous lay,--