Classic Poem

A CANTATA .

FIRST VOICE .

I in the morning flutter
Over the dew-lit flowers,
Light in the morning flutter
Around the rosy bowers.
Gay as the mavis singing
Among the dew-lit flowers,
You hear my clear voice ringing
Out of the rosy bowers,
Out of the rosy bowers,
Around the rosy bowers, —
You hear my clear voice ringing
Around the rosy bowers.

SECOND VOICE .

I, when the night is still,
Over the ocean glide,
Or round the silent hill,
Upon the moonbeam ride.
When all is dark and lone,
From deep and winding dell
You hear my magic tone,
Like the distant mermaid's shell.
From winding dell
You hear it swell,
Far, then near, like the mermaid's shell.

BOTH .

We are two sister peris,
Floating in light along,
Dancing at night with the fairies,
Joining the lark in his song.
We come and go,
Like the sea in its flow,
And soft as the snow,
As it falls on the river,
Steal to the heart,
And are gone for ever.
Sister spirits are we,
From the heaven of song descending;
Our feelings and tones agree,
In harmony ever blending.

FIRST VOICE .

When o'er the hills the dawn is stealing,
Hark to my trill of joyous feeling.

SECOND VOICE .

When the evening has faded and gone,
List to my song as it dies away.

FIRST VOICE .

Hear me, too, when the dews are falling,
Home to her bower the truant calling.

SECOND VOICE .

When the bright moon is rolling on,
Hear my deep shell on the silvered bay,
Hear my deep shell on the silvered bay.

FIRST VOICE .

Hark to my trill of joyous feeling,
Like the young lark's, in his gladness wheeling.

SECOND VOICE .

List to my song as it dies away.
List to my song as it bursts again,
Loud as the trump on the battle-plain:
Now, like the mountain horn,
Clanging through wood and dell,
Far on the echoes borne, —
O, hark to its rolling swell!
Careering, careering afar,
It pours like a flood from the height,
Answers from crag and scar,
Then breathes like the whisper of night.

FIRST VOICE .

Merrily, merrily ringing,
My clear voice wakens the grove,
Clear as the woodman's, singing
The song of his happy love.
Like bees on the purple heather,
When summer is still and bright,
My tones, light hovering, gather
New sweets in their airy flight.

SECOND VOICE .

Mine is the spell of power.

FIRST VOICE .

Mine is the charm of feeling.

SECOND VOICE .

Night is my chosen hour.

FIRST VOICE .

Mine is the cheerful day.

BOTH .

Each to the heart appealing,
We rule with a magic sway,
And willing spirits obey
The sweet influence over them stealing.

Winningly thus our tones combine,
Like the lily and rose in perfect twine.
A moment we hover, then take our flight:
Good night to you all! Good night! Good night!