Classic Poem

The air is soft and balmy,
And the moon shines clear and bright,
So throw your lattice wide, Ladie,
And bless my eyes to-night.
No smoothly polished lay I sing
Like courtly chevalier,
Yet let the soldier's tale of love
Fall sweetly on your ear.

I come from far countree,
From the land of tropic sun,
Where fame, and wreaths of laurel
And glorious names are won;
Where the dews of night fall harmlessly
On the saber's polished side
As the dews of Time but strengthen
My soul's love for its bride.