A lovely and a languid hour,
Long is the shadow on the flower,
And twilight with her first soft tears
Amid the cypress grove appears.
Listening for one beloved foot,
Sweeter to her than song or lute,
The ladye leans above the chords,
Deep in those thoughts that ask not words.
A little while hath she been bride
To him who lingers at her side,
As life had nothing left to show
More than that fairy form below.
Could those too happy moments stay
When Love is in his early day,
Life were a poet’s fancy, made
For dreaming in the green wood shade.
Then common things are covered o’er
With beauty never known before;
A little leaf, a flower will wear
A charm that only Love flings there.
As yonder rising star hath given
Its own pure loveliness to heaven,
So Love can to the human heart
Its own enchanted light impart.
’Tis but a dream—a morning dream,
Yet flinging down on life’s dark stream
A shadow fairer than the rose
To warm the current to its close.
Henceforth the spirit has one spot
Where other griefs and cares come not—
One thought that is from heaven, and flings
The lustre of an angel’s wings.
Ah! linger, ye beloved hours,
Linger on life’s enchanted flowers,
They are so lovely—linger on—
What will they do when ye are gone?