WAKE THEE, MY DEAR.

Wake thee, my dear — thy dreaming

Till darker hours will keep;

While such a moon is beaming,

‘ Tis wrong towards Heaven to sleep.

Moments there are we number,

Moments of pain and care,

Which to oblivious slumber

Gladly the wretch would spare.

But now,— who'd think of dreaming

When Love his watch should keep?

While such a moon is beaming,

‘ Tis wrong towards Heaven to sleep.

If e'er the fates should sever

My life and hopes from thee, love,

The sleep that lasts for ever

Would then be sweet to me, love;

But now,— away with dreaming!

Till darker hours‘ twill keep;

While such a moon is beaming,

‘ Tis wrong towards Heaven to sleep.