NORA: A SERENADE

By Paul Laurence Dunbar

Ah, Nora, my Nora, the light fades away,

While Night like a spirit steals up o'er the hills;

The thrush from his tree where he chanted all day,

No longer his music in ecstasy trills.

Then, Nora, be near me; thy presence doth cheer me,

Thine eye hath a gleam that is truer than gold.

I cannot but love thee; so do not reprove me,

If the strength of my passion should make me too bold.

Nora, pride of my heart —

Rosy cheeks, cherry lips, sparkling with glee,—

Wake from thy slumbers, wherever thou art;

Wake from thy slumbers to me.

Ah, Nora, my Nora, there‘ s love in the air,—

It stirs in the numbers that thrill in my brain;

Oh, sweet, sweet is love with its mingling of care,

Though joy travels only a step before pain.

Be roused from thy slumbers and list to my numbers;

My heart is poured out in this song unto thee.

Oh, be thou not cruel, thou treasure, thou jewel;

Turn thine ear to my pleading and hearken to me.