'Tis now the hour--'tis now the hour
To bow at Beauty's shrine;
Now whilst, our hearts confess the power
Of woman, wit, and wine;
And beaming eyes look on so bright,
Wit springs--wine sparkles in their light.
In such an hour--in such an hour,
In such an hour as this,
While Pleasure's fount throws up a shower
Of social sprinkling bliss,
Why does my bosom heave the sigh
That mars delight?--She is not by!
There was an hour--there was an hour
When I indulged the spell
That Love wound round me with a power
Words vainly try to tell--
Though Love has fill'd my checker'd doom
With fruits and thorns, and light and gloom--
Yet there's an hour--there's still an hour
Whose coming sunshine may
Clear from the clouds that hang and lower
My fortune's future day;
That hour of hours beloved will be,
That hour that gives thee back to me!
_New Monthly Magazine_.
* * * * *