How dear to love the moonlight hour,
Beneath the calm transparent ether,
It seems as if by magic power
They breathe in unison together.
When forest glen and fountain bright
Are tinged with shades of mellow light,
And every earthly sound is still
Save murmur of the mountain rill;
'Tis then to lull the breast's commotion,
And waken every soft emotion,
To charm from sorrow's cheek her tears,
And place the smiles of rapture there,
"Celestial music of the spheres"
Comes floating on the evening air.
'Tis then that fancy wings her flight
Beyond the bounds to mortals given;
To regions where the lamps of night
Illume the path which leads to heaven.
'Tis then she holds communion sweet
With seraphs round the eternal throne,
Where long-departed spirits meet,
To worship him who sits thereon.
'Tis then man dreams of Paradise,
If aught he dreams of place like this,
'Tis then he breathes the crystal air,
Which Peris breathe who wander there,
And sips the fount of Native Love
Found no where but in heaven above.