More sweet the hour, when Passion's power
First sways the yielding frame,
And heart and soul, and mind and sense,
Dissolve in Love's soft flame.
III.
Oh! sweet the light, that gilds the night
From many a glorious star,
And bright the beam, whose golden gleam
The sun shoots forth afar!
IV.
But sweeter far than sun or star,
The light of that dark eye,
Whose dazzling glance and dreamy trance
The shining spheres outvie.
[MOHAWK.]
A CLUSTER OF SONNETS TOUCHING THAT VALLEY.
BY H. W. ROCKWELL.