Put on thy beauty, foliage-vaulted roof,
Her to receive: with silent welcome grace her;
Ye branches build a shadowy room, eye-proof,
With lovely night and stillness to embrace her,
Ye airs caressing, wake, nor keep aloof,
In sport and gambol turning still to face her,
As, with its load of beauty, lightly borne,
Glides in the fairy foot, and dawns my morn.

What is that rustling the hedges?
She, with her hurrying pace?
No, a bird among the sedges,
Startled from its hiding-place!

Quench thy sunk torch, O Day! Steal out, appear,
Dim, ghostly Night, with dumbness us entrancing!
Spread thy rose-purple veil about us here;
Weave round us twigs, the mystery enhancing:
Love's rapture flees the lurking listening ear--
Flies from the Day, so indiscreetly glancing;
Hesper alone--no tattling tell-tale he--
Far-gazing, still, her confidant may be.

That was a voice, but far distant,
Faint, like a whispering low!
No; the swan that draws persistent
Through the pond his circles slow!

About mine ears harmonious breathings flow;