When we meet again, Lisette,
Let the sun be sunk to rest
Beneath the glowing wavelets
Of the widely spreading west;
Let half the world be hush'd
In the drowsiness of sleep,
And howlets scream the music
Of the revels that they keep.
Let the gentle lady-moon,
With her coldly drooping beams,
Be dancing in the ripple
Of the ever-laughing streams,
Where the little elves disport
In the stilly noon of night,
And lave their limbs of ether
In the mellow flood of light.
When we meet again, Lisette,
Let it be in yonder pile,
Beneath the massy fretting
Of its darkly-shaded aisle,
Where, through the crumbling arches
The quaint old carvings loom,
And saint and seraph keep their watch
O'er many an ancient tomb.