Thy hand in mine lay kindly mated;
Thy gaze held mine quite fascinated—
So gracious wast, and fair!
Thy glance my life-thread almost severed;
My heart for joy and gladness quivered,
Nigh more than it could bear.
There in the grove at evening’s hour
The breeze thro’ budding twigs hath ranged,
And lips have learned to meet each other,
And kisses mute exchanged.”