The Serenade.

Innocent dreams be thine! The silver night     Is a fit curtain for thy lovely sleep.     The stars keep watch above thee, and the moon     Sits like a brooding spirit up in Heaven,     Ruling the night's deep influences, and life     Hath a hushed pulse, and the suspended leaves     Sleep with their whisperings as if the dew     Were a soft finger on the lip of sound.     Innocent dreams be thine! thy heart sends up     Its thoughts of purity like pearly bells     Rising in crystal fountains, and the sin     That thou hast seen by day, will, like a shade,     Pass from thy memory, as if the pure     Had an unconscious ministry by night.     Midnight - and now for music! Would I were     A sound that I might steal upon thy dreams,     And, like the breathing of my flute, distil     Sweetly upon thy senses. Softly, boy!     Breathe the low cadences as if the words     Fainted upon thy lip - I would not break     Her slumber quite - but only, as she dreams,     Witch the lull'd sense till she believes she hears     Celestial melody: -