I love to watch the twilight sky
When in it glows the star of even,
For then it seems that Love’s own eye
Is looking kindly down from heaven;
But oh, more deeply love I far,
Than twilight sky or evening star,
The soul-reflecting beam to view,
That sweetly lights thine eye of blue.
I love to watch the waving grain
When o’er it floats the summer breeze;
I love to view the rippling plain
When winds are sporting on the seas;
Yet love I more the smile divine
Which flits across that face of thine,
When o’er thy soul doth gently move
The breathing joyousness of love.
I love to read in Eastern lore,
About the goddess-queens of old,
So fair that Nature never more
Could forms of equal beauty mould;
Yet, more than all, I love to know
There is not on this earth below,
Nor in the deep, nor in the air,
A form that can with thine compare.
I love to hear the gentle swell
Of music on the midnight air;
I love to tread the lonely dell--
I love the torrent-music there;
But oh, more charming far to me
Than music’s sweetest notes can be,
Is that confiding, trembling tone,
Which hangs upon thy lips alone.