Thou’rt leaning from thy casement,
To breathe the moon-lit
air!
The rays are softly falling
Upon thy mournful face,
And in thy sweet, sad eyes love,
A secret pang I trace!
My dreams are all of heaven.
Or sooth sweet one of thee!
Thou’rt leaning from thy casement,
To breathe the moon-lit
air!
The rays are softly falling
Upon thy mournful face,
And in thy sweet, sad eyes love,
A secret pang I trace!
My dreams are all of heaven.
Or sooth sweet one of thee!