The moonlight nights are lovelier now,
On silent Elfindale;
More pure the beams, more soft the glow,
That sleeps upon the vale:
So much of beauty God hath given
To sweetest Frankie—gracious Heaven!
She spares so much to beautify,
Fair Elfindale to my charm'd eye,—
And yet she loses none at all
Of that which holds my soul in thrall.