The Lover’s Song

Ah! When will this long weary day have end
And lend me leave to come unto my love?
How slowly do the hours their numbers spend?
How slowly does sad Time his feathers move?
Haste thee O fairest Planet to thy home
Within the Western foam:
Thy tired steeds long since have need of rest
Long tho‘ it be, at last I see it gloom
And the bright evening star with golden crest
Appear out of the East
Fair child of beauty, glorious lamp of love
That all the host of Heaven in ranks dost lead
And guidest lovers thro‘ the night's sad dread
How cheerfully thou lookest from above
And seem‘st to laugh atween thy twinkling light
As joying in the sight
Of these glad many which for joy do sing
That all the woods them answer and their echo ring