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INTERLUDES.
NIGHT MUSINGS.
WHEN the moon is beaming brightly,
And the stars bedeck the skies;
When the silent dew falls lightly,
And the mists of evening rise;
When the zephyrs, sadly sighing,
Softly breathe their low complaint;
When the owlet's voice, replying,
Soundeth far away, and faint;
When the odor of each flower
Swoons upon the balmy air;
When the softness of the hour
Steals away each mortal care:
Then—oh, then! my soul's sad yearnings
Love to linger on thy name;
Then—oh, then! my heart's low burnings
Are kindled into flame:
And the stars bedeck the skies;
When the silent dew falls lightly,
And the mists of evening rise;
When the zephyrs, sadly sighing,
Softly breathe their low complaint;
When the owlet's voice, replying,
Soundeth far away, and faint;
When the odor of each flower
Swoons upon the balmy air;
When the softness of the hour
Steals away each mortal care:
Then—oh, then! my soul's sad yearnings
Love to linger on thy name;
Then—oh, then! my heart's low burnings
Are kindled into flame:
