 | Poems |  |
73
NOTTURNO.
Cantus querulæ tibiæ.
Hor. od. 7. b. iii.
Hor. od. 7. b. iii.
'Tis now the dead of night, my love;
From thy chamber-bower alight, my love;
I've a ladder of ropes,
And a world of hopes—
Then quickly let's take flight, my love.
From thy chamber-bower alight, my love;
I've a ladder of ropes,
And a world of hopes—
Then quickly let's take flight, my love.
Here we in danger are, my dear,
But we'll fly from it far, my dear;
Then into my arms,
With thy thousand charms,
Descend like a falling star, my dear.
But we'll fly from it far, my dear;
Then into my arms,
With thy thousand charms,
Descend like a falling star, my dear.
74
Oh, what are wealth and birth, my love,
To honesty and worth, my love?
From thy father's tower,
To thy true lover's bower,
Is stepping to heaven from earth, my love.
To honesty and worth, my love?
From thy father's tower,
To thy true lover's bower,
Is stepping to heaven from earth, my love.
The moon is shining bright, my dear;
Our flying steps to light, my dear;
Beaming, the while,
An approving smile,
On this our true-love flight, my dear.
Our flying steps to light, my dear;
Beaming, the while,
An approving smile,
On this our true-love flight, my dear.
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