Lotus blossom
Ferdinand von Hiller
The Lotus-flower trembles
Before the sun's gold light;
And, with her head low drooping,
Waits, dreamily, the night.
The Moon, he is her lover,
He wakes her with his light,
And unto him reveals she
Her flower-face so bright.
She blooms and glows and brightens,
And dumbly looks above;
She weeps and sighs and trembles
With love and the woes of love.