Serenade.

The day is fading from the sky,         And softly shines the Star of Even,     As watching with a lover's eye         The rest of Earth the peace of Heaven;     The dew is rising cool and sweet,         And, zephyr-rock'd, the flowers are closing,     The Night steals on with noiseless feet,         Oh! gentle be my love's reposing.     The streamlet, as it flows along,         Sounds like a voice 'mid childhood's slumbers;     And from the brake the Queen of Song         Pours forth her softest, clearest numbers;     And ever through the stirless leaves         The summer moon is brightly streaming,     Light fancies on the sward it weaves,--         As radiant be my lady's dreaming.     The silent hours move swiftly on,         With many a blessed vision laden,     That all the night has softly shone         Upon the hearts of youth and maiden;     And now, in golden splendors drest,         The new-born day is gladly breaking,     Oh! blissful be my lady's rest,         And sweet as Morn be her awaking.