Whence I won thee, sweet nestler, at parting one night?
How beauteous thy head, as it modestly stoop’d
Its blushes to hide in her bosom of snow—
How sweetly above thee her fair tresses droop’d—
How pure was the heart beating stilly below!
Oh! sweet was her smile as the first blush of Eve,
And soft was her voice as the low summer wind,
When she gave thee away, half reluctant to leave,
Like an angel from heaven sent down to mankind.
I have cherished thee since as if never to part,