The Return Home, 72

Like darkling visions the houses
Are standing all in a row;
Deep hidden in my mantle,
In silence I onward go.

The high cathedral tower
The hour of twelve doth proclaim:
My love, with her charms and kisses,
Awaits me with rapturous flame.

The moon is my attendant,
And kindly gleams in the sky,
And when I arrive at her dwelling,
I joyfully call up on high:

I thank thee, my olden companion,
That thou hast thus lighted my way;
I now at length can release thee,
Light the rest of the world now, I pray

And find’st thou some mortal enamour’d,
In solitude mourning his fate,
As me thou of old time didst comfort,
Him also O comfort thou straight!