Thy songs her joy at every hour.
You were her sun, now set too soon;
Among the Lydian dames she shines
As, after sunset, glow the lines
Of light the rosy-fingered moon
Throws on her retinue of stars
Spreading a far-flung lane of beams
That gleams the salt sea o’er and streams
Across the rocky shore that bars
In vain the light that floods its gloom,