| |
| As the dim twilight shrouds | |
| The mountain’s purple crest, | |
| And Summer’s white and folded clouds | |
| Are glowing in the west, | |
| Loud shouts come up the rocky dell, | 5 |
| And voices hail the evening-bell. | |
| |
| Faint is the goatherd’s song, | |
| And sighing comes the breeze; | |
| The silent river sweeps along | |
| Amid its bending trees— | 10 |
| And the full moon shines faintly there, | |
| And music fills the evening air. | |
| |
| Beneath the waving firs | |
| The tinkling cymbals sound; | |
| And as the wind the foliage stirs, | 15 |
| I see the dancers bound | |
| Where the green branches, arched above, | |
| Bend over this fair scene of love. | |
| |
| And he is there, that sought | |
| My young heart long ago! | 20 |
| But he has left me—though I thought | |
| He ne’er could leave me so. | |
| Ah! lover’s vows—how frail are they! | |
| And his—were made but yesterday. | |
| |
| Why comes he not? I call | 25 |
| In tears upon him yet; | |
| ’T were better ne’er to love at all, | |
| Than love, and then forget! | |
| Why comes he not? Alas! I should | |
| Reclaim him still, if weeping could. | 30 |
| |
| But see—he leaves the glade, | |
| And beckons me away: | |
| He comes to seek his mountain maid! | |
| I cannot chide his stay. | |
| Glad sounds along the valley swell, | 35 |
| And voices hail the evening-bell. | |
| |
