As lily fair, and as sweet to see;
Arise, Sir Knight, and follow me.
The stars streamed out, the new-woke moon
O’er Chatsworth hill gleamed brightly down,
And my love’s cheeks, half seen, half hid,
With love and joy blushed deeply red:
Short was our time, and chaste our bliss,
A whispered vow and a gentle kiss;
And one of those long looks, which earth
With all its glory is not worth.