And yet, the morning had not flown,
And yet, fresh winds blew from afar
As came, in ne’er decreasing tone,
The song through which ran this refrain—
’Tis never night in love’s domain.
Ah, love of mine, how well we know
The glories of those garden lands
Through which Lethean waters flow!
Oft we have wandered to and fro
Down those bright halls, and seen the hands