THE HOUR OF LOVE.

When the fair one and the dear one--

Her lover by her side--

Strays or sits as fancy flits,

Where yellow streamlets glide;

Gleams illuming--flowers perfuming

Where'er her footsteps rove;

Time beguiling with her smiling,

Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one,

Amid a moonlight scene,

Where grove and glade, and light and shade,

Are all around serene;

Heaves the soft sigh of ecstasy,

While coos the turtle-dove,

And in soft strains appeals--complains,

Oh! that 's the hour of love.

Should the fair one and the dear one

The sigh of pity lend

For human woe, that presses low

A stranger, or a friend,

Tears descending, sweetly blending,

As down her cheeks they rove;

Beauty's charms in pity's arms--

Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one

Appears in morning dreams,

In flowing vest by fancy drest,

And all the angel beams;

The heavenly mien, and look serene,

Confess her from above;

While rising sighs and dewy eyes

Say, that 's the hour of love!