Classic Poem

I GET my hue from heaven's own blue,
A beautiful spirit I hold,
A fairy bright, that through the night
Close to my heart I fold.
None heareth the strain, that once and again
Through the night he singeth to me;
And when he would sleep, I watch o'er him keep,
And muse on his melody:
All things of the night in his song take delight,
And I perfume his chamber each hour;
The lizard and owl, and each wakeful fowl,
Through night's silent halls seek my bower.
The stars ask me oft where my love I have lain,
And the glow-worm entranced comes to listen his strain;
His song you may hear, but his beauty's my own;
No eye but mine sees him, so lovely, so lone.