The sky already darkens, and serene The azure vault its loveliness reveals; From hill and tower a lengthened shadow steals In silvery whiteness of the crescent moon. We hear the distant bell Of festive morrow tell; To weary hearts how generous a boon! The happy children in the open space In dancing numbers throng With game and jest and song; And to his quiet home and simple fare The labourer doth repair And whistles as he goes, Glad of the morrow that shall bring repose. Then, when no other light around is seen, No other sound or stir, We hear the hammer strike, The grating saw of busy carpenter; He is about and doing, so unlike His quiet neighbours; his nocturnal lamp With helpful light the darkened workshop fills, And he makes haste his business to complete Ere break of dawn the heavenly regions greet. This of the seven is the happiest day, With hope and joyaunce gay; To-morrow grief and care The unwelcome hours will in their progress bear; To-morrow one and all In thought their wonted labours will recall. O merry youth! Thy time of life so gay Is like a joyous and delightful day, A day clear and serene That doth the approaching festival precede Of thy fair life. Rejoice! Divine indeed Is this fair day, I ween. I'll say no more; but when it comes to thee, Thy festival, may it not evil be. ASPASIA. Again at times appeareth to my thought Thy semblance, O Aspasia! either flashing Across my path amid the haunts of men In other forms; or 'mid deserted fields When shines the sun or tranquil host of stars, As by the sweetest harmony awoke, Arising in my soul which seems once more To yield unto that vision all superb, How much adored, O Heaven! of yore how fully The joyaunce and the halo of my life! I never meet the perfume of the gardens Or of the flowers that cities may display, Without beholding thee as thou appearedst Upon that day when in thy splendid rooms Which gave the perfume of the sweetest flowers Of recent Spring, arrayed in robes that bore The violet's hue, first thine angelic form Did meet my gaze as thou, reclining, layest On strange, white furs, and deep, voluptuous charm Seemed to be thine, whilst thou, a skilled enchantress Of loving hearts, upon the rosy lips Of thy fair children many a fervent kiss Imprintedst, bending down to them thy neck Of snowy beauty, and with lovely hand Their guileless forms, unconscious of thy wile, Clasping unto thy bosom, so desired, Though hidden. To the vision of my soul Another sky and more entrancing world And radiance as from Heaven were revealed. Thus in my heart, though not unarmed, thy power infixed the arrow which I wounded bore Until that day when the revolving earth