When the summer daylight has gone out like a flash in the crimsoning west,
And the dew of evening falls softly on grass and flower.
For then, oh, holy Seraph!
I know thou wilt come and reign the queen of the scene.
Farewell now, oh Seraph! oh Seraph that came from the skies,
And will wing back thy flight when the morn
Comes flashing again from the east!
Farewell—farewell—farewell!
Till the summer-night calls thee again!
And again will I praise thee in song,