NIGHT'S dewy Orb, that o'er yon limpid stream

[ZaunköniG]

NIGHT'S dewy Orb, that o'er yon limpid stream
Its silent light in soft refulgence throws;
Yon limpid stream, whose quiv'ring bosom shows
The tender radiance of the silv'ry beam:

Yon tangled wood, whose high and waving head
Hangs o'er the dashing torrent's frothy source;
Which wildly bounding from its pebbly bed,
Thro' the lone valley winds its dimpling course;

Have oft, full oft, been witness to my woe,
When cold neglect, false hopes, and jealous fears,
The RUBY DROPS that in my bosom glow,
With icy touch transform'd to CRYSTAL TEARS;
DEAR PRECIOUS GEMS, still shall your rays impart,
The brightest lustre of THE FEELING HEART.