Constancy

My heart that burns like the noon-tide,

Has waited the long day through,

And still in the gloaming I long for your coming,

As flowers faint for the dew.

Oh! come in the cool of the ev'ning,

Like a soft wind out of the west;

Oh! come like the swallow that flies o'er the fallow,

Homeward at night to the nest.

The nightingale in the garden

Cries "Look, look, look, truant love;

The pale stars glimmer, the moonbeams shimmer,

And glide through the leaves above."

Ah me! but the midnight passes,

I linger and know not why;

Though you come never, I hope for ever,

For a lover must hope or die.