'TIS MIDNIGHT.
I
'Tis midnight, and sweet melodies
Are wafted o'er the tide,
From one of those bright pleasure barques,
That on the waters glide.
Gay lords are there
And ladies fair,
Along the ship
They lightly trip;
I envy not their revelry
While roving by thy side.
II
Behold the moonbeams darting through
The green transparent tree;
And hear the light leaves answering
The whispers of the breeze.
When winter throws
Her chilling snows,
O'er all the earth,
Then give me mirth,
But oh! the dance was never meant
For summer nights like these.
