Classic Poem

O SWAN of slenderness,
Dove of tenderness,
— Jewel of joys, arise!
The little red lark,
Like a soaring spark
— Of song, to his sunburst flies;
But till thou art arisen,
Earth is a prison,
— Full of my lonesome sighs:
Then awake and discover,
To thy fond lover,
— The morn of thy matchless eyes.
The dawn is dark to me,
Hark! oh, hark to me,
— Pulse of my heart, I pray!
— And out of thy hiding
With blushes gliding,
— Dazzle me with thy day.
Ah, then once more to thee
Flying I'll pour to thee
— Passion so sweet and gay,
The larks shall listen,
And dew-drops glisten,
— Laughing on every spray.