WHEN shadows o'er the landscape creep, And twinkling stars pale vigils keep; When flower-cups all with dew-drops gleam, And moonshine floweth like a stream; Then is the hour That hearts which love no longer dream, -- Then is the hour That the voice of love is a spell of power! When shamefaced moonbeams kiss the lake, And amorous leaves sweet music wake; When slumber steals o'er every eye, And Dian's self shines drowsily; Then is the hour That hearts which love with rapture sigh, -- Then is the hour That the voice of love is a spell of power! When surly mastiffs stint their howl, And swathed in moonshine nods the owl; When cottage-hearths are glimmering low, And warder cocks forget to crow; Then is the hour That hearts feel passion's overflow, -- Then is the hour That the voice of love is a spell of power! When stilly night seems earth's vast grave, Nor murmur comes from wood or wave; When land and sea, in wedlock bound By silence, sleep in bliss profound; Then is the hour That hearts like living well-springs sound, -- Then is the hour That the voice of love is a spell of power! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COME UNTO ME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TWILIGHT ON THE DESERT by ETHEL FRANCES BARNARD A PREPARATORY HYMNE TO THE WEEK OF MEDITACIONS UPON, & DEVOUT EXERCISE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT FOOT-PRINTS by ANNE MILLAY BREMER TRUE-HEARTED WAS HE by ROBERT BURNS |