And then he wandered silent to a grove,
To feed upon the full heart's ecstasy.
The moon was sailing o'er the deep blue sky,
Each moment shedding fuller light above,
As the pale crimson from the west departs.
Ah, this is just the hour for passionate hearts
To linger over dreams of happiness,
All of young love's delicious loveliness!
The cypress waved upon the evening air
Like the long tresses of a beauty's hair;
And close beside was laurel; and the pale
Snow blossoms of the myrtle tree, so frail
And delicate, like woman; 'mid the shade
Rose the white pillars of the colonnade
Around the marble temple, where the Queen
Of Love was worshipped, and there was seen,
Where the grove ended, the so glorious sea
Now in its azure sleep's tranquillity.
He saw a white veil wave,—his heart beat high:
He heard a voice, and then a low toned sigh.
Gently he stole amid the shading trees—
It is his love—his Hero that he sees!
Her hand lay motionless upon the lute,
Which thrilled beneath the touch, her lip was mute,
Only her eyes were speaking; dew and light
There blended like the hyacinth, when night
Has wept upon its bosom; she did seem
As consciousness were lost in some sweet dream—
That dream was love! Blushes were on her cheek,
And what, save love, do blushes ever speak?
Her lips were parted, as one moment more,
And then the heart would yield its hidden store.
'Twas so at length her thought found utterance:
Light, feeling, flashed from her awakened glance--
She paused--then gazed on one pale star above,
Poured to her lute the burning words of love!
Leander heard his name! How more than sweet
That moment, as he knelt at Hero's feet,
Breathing his passion in each thrilling word,
Only by lovers said, by lovers heard.
