"WHEN SHINES THE STAR."
When shines the star by thee loved best,
Upon those soft delicious eves,
Lighting the ring-dove to her nest
Where tremblings stir the darkling leaves;
When flings the wave its crest of foam
Above the shadowy-mantled seas,
A softness o'er my heart doth come,
Linking thy memory with these;
For if, amid those orbs, that roll,
Thou hast at times a thought of me,
For every one, that stirs thy soul,
A thousand stir my own of thee.
Upon those soft delicious eves,
Lighting the ring-dove to her nest
Where tremblings stir the darkling leaves;
When flings the wave its crest of foam
Above the shadowy-mantled seas,
A softness o'er my heart doth come,
Linking thy memory with these;
For if, amid those orbs, that roll,
Thou hast at times a thought of me,
For every one, that stirs thy soul,
A thousand stir my own of thee.
Even now thy dear remembered eyes,
Filled up with floods of radiant light,
Seem bending from the twilight skies,
Outshining all the stars of night;
And thy young face, divinely fair,
Like a bright cloud seems melting through,
While low sweet whispers fill the air,
Making my own lips whisper too;
Filled up with floods of radiant light,
Seem bending from the twilight skies,
Outshining all the stars of night;
And thy young face, divinely fair,
Like a bright cloud seems melting through,
While low sweet whispers fill the air,
Making my own lips whisper too;
