Mysterious star!
You were my dream
All a long a spring night-
Now my theme
By this clear stream,
Of you I will write
Mean time from afar
Bathe me in your light!
Your world has not the dross of ours
Yet all the beauty-all the flowers
That lists our love, or decks our bowers
In dreamy gardens, where do lie
Dreamy maidens all the day,
While the silver winds of Circassy
On violet couches faint away.
Little –oh! Little dwells in you
Like unto what earth we see;
Beauty’s eye is here the bluest
In the falsest and untruest-
On the sweetest air does float
The most sad and solemn note-
If with you be broken hearts,
Joy so peacefully departs,
That its echo still does dwell
Like the murmur in the shell
You! Thy truest type of grief
Is the gently falling leaf-
You! Thy framing is so holy
Sorrow is not melancholy.
