To learn the hour of eventide
Again the youth and maiden sighed:
“Mute marker of the moments’ flight,
Oh! dial, tell us of the night!”
—But ’neath the moon’s uncertain ray
The shadow pointed still astray.
Unconscious how the moments flew,
(Bound by the spell which passion drew,)
Unto the dial’s line of shade
Once more approached the youth and maid: