Serenade

O form to which the palms have lent their grace,

And all the jasmines given their perfume,

What lovelier form goes wandering thro' earth's room?

O eyes to which the diamond lends its light,

And night its radiant stars,

What woman's eyes give forth a fire more bright?

O kiss more sweet than honey from her mouth,

What woman's kiss is fresher than the South?

O to caress thy hair! to feel my heart

Thrill against thine! … Then to gaze in thine eyes,

And see the stars arise!