Hang the Grecian flowers of love,
Roses—leading soft and bright,
Lives, half perfume and half light;
In their leaves the honey bee
Lulled to sleep voluptuously.
There are shades, which the red sun
Never yet has looked upon,
Where the moon has but the power
Of a cool and twilight hour.
By the sea are sparry caves,
Where the music of the waves
Never ceases, and the walls
Are hung with the coronals
Left by Sea-maids, when they wring
Pearls which in their wet hair cling.
’Tis a land of fruit and flowers,
Silver waters, sunny hours;
Human foot has never prest
Its so sweet and silent rest.
But a bark is on the sea,
And those in that bark will be
Soon upon the island shore,
And its loneliness is o'er!
Oh, if any dare intrude
On the lovely solitude;
If there be that need not fear
Breaking the sweet quiet here;
If there should be those, for whom
Leaves expand and flowers bloom,
Birds breathe song,—oh, if there be,
Surely, Love, it is for thee!
Lover's step would softly press
Flowers with its light caress;
Lover's words would have a tone
With each song in unison;
Lover's smiles would be as fair
As the sunniest day-beam there;
