List’ning to the music the spring birds made;
When sweeter by far than the birds on the tree,
A voice murmured near her, “Oh! come, Love, with me—
In earth or air,
A thing so fair
I have not seen as thee!
Then come, Love, with me.”
“With a star for thy home, in a palace of light,
Thou will add a fresh grace to the beauty of night;
Or, if wealth be thy wish, thine are treasures untold,