Evening melody

Eve, warm and sad, as the last light shimmers,

And the pallid flowers sigh in the soft air;

Love, found at last, through her calm soul glimmers:

Perfumes wafting, breezes doling scents new and fair.

Ah, chaste as morn, there she walks on, smiling;

In the evening-hallowed grove, with a pale hand,

Plays on her lute, thus the dear time whiling,

Playing softly, virgin music; love's sweet command.

So as he comes, and her mild eyes darken,

And the tender shadows glide into veiled night;

All thrills for him, and his strained ears hearken;

Music swaying, music dying, Love's end's delight.