Silence again, sweetheart, the shadows grow,
I watch the white stars climb into the sky,
Hear the dull rapids’ softened lullaby
In smothered thunder, brooding sweet and low;
Catch in the east the pallid silver glow
Of a new moon, that floating pure and clear
In perfect promise of the fuller sphere,
Dips this dim world in glory, mounting slow.
Not always had the heavens such a charm;
Last year the rapids were not half so sweet,
The wind had not such rythmic melody,
Till, Love, love came, and fanned the cold‘ heart warm,
Attuned to music chords still incomplete,
And set the whole night whispering of thee.