My banks they are furnish'd with bees, Whose murmur invites one to sleep.

I have found out a gift for my fair; I have found where the wood-pigeons breed.

For seldom shall she hear a tale So sad, so tender, and so true.

So sweetly she bade me adieu, I thought that she bade me return.

Call for the grandest of all earthly spectacles, what is that? It is the sun going to his rest. Call for the grandest of all human sentiments, what is that? It…

Within my pounding heart which kept itself entirely for him He fell into his sleep beneath the cedars all my love I gave From o'er the fortress walls the wind …

The broad cloud-driving moon in the clear sky Lifts o'er the firs her shining shield, And in her tranquil light Sleep falls on forest and field. See! sleep hat…