SERENADE

The pink rose drops its petals on

The moonlit lawn, the moonlit lawn;

The moon, like some wide rose of white,

Drops down the summer night.

No rose there is

As sweet as this —

Thy mouth, that greets me with a kiss.

The lattice of thy casement twines

With jasmine vines, with jasmine vines;

The stars, like jasmine blossoms, lie

About the glimmering sky.

No jasmine tress

Can so caress

As thy white arms’ soft loveliness.

About thy door magnolia blooms

Make sweet the glooms, make sweet the glooms;

A moon-magnolia is the dusk

Closed in a dewy husk.

However much,

No bloom gives such

Soft fragrance as thy bosom's touch.

The flowers, blooming now, shall pass,

And strew the grass, and strew the grass;

The night, like some frail flower, dawn

Shall soon make gray and wan.

Still, still above,

The flower of

True love shall live forever, love.