I have dreamed of thee in the silent night,
When Nature was hushed in repose;
I have thought of thee when the morning light
O'er a slumbering world arose.
I have loved thee when summer's golden beams
Fell soft on thy beautiful brow,
But ne'er in my waking or midnight dreams,
More dear than I love thee now!
I have wandered with thee by the valley green,
Where streamlets meandering flow--
For where is thy image, I fancy the scene,
The sweetest to mortals below!
More softly the songsters pour forth their lay,
The flowers at thy fair presence bow:
O, I've loved thee by night, and I've loved thee by day,
But never more dearly than now!
Then since I have loved thee, gentle one,
O, say that I'm loved by thee;
And Time, as he travels his swift journey on,
Shall make thee more lovely to me.
Each hour that I gaze on thy fair beaming eyes,
Or look on thy placid brow,
Emotions shall waken, and joys shall arise,
As tender and true as they're now!
