Twinkled through the silent vesper,
And their bosoms beat as one,
Thrilling o’er with too much fervor, like a blossom in the sun.
Olden words in music echoed
Through her heart’s forsaken bowers;
But its buds of love were rifled,
And the spirit voice was stifled,
Which would tell of tender hours;
Nevermore may second sunshine bid re-bloom its perished flowers!
Still that dark foreboding lingered