92
poems.
THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS.
(to the same.)
Flow'r of dewy eve!
Opening thine eye,
When gone is the sunshine,
And dark is the sky;
That breathest thy fragrance
While other buds sleep,
Throwing thy veil aside
While gentle mists weep!
Oh, vainly the gay wind
In bright sunny hours,
Whispers its song of mirth,
Seeking thy flowers;
The low sigh of sadness
On night's stilly air;
This, this is thy music
Like breathings of pray'r!
It wakes all thy fragrance!
Thou liftest thy veil
While perfume the sweetest
Is wing'd on the gale!
E'en thus is that true love,
Refreshing the soul,
Opening thine eye,
When gone is the sunshine,
And dark is the sky;
That breathest thy fragrance
While other buds sleep,
Throwing thy veil aside
While gentle mists weep!
Oh, vainly the gay wind
In bright sunny hours,
Whispers its song of mirth,
Seeking thy flowers;
The low sigh of sadness
On night's stilly air;
This, this is thy music
Like breathings of pray'r!
It wakes all thy fragrance!
Thou liftest thy veil
While perfume the sweetest
Is wing'd on the gale!
E'en thus is that true love,
Refreshing the soul,
