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.