To ----

Where art thou lingering, tell me, thou fair one?
There where the nightingale wakes her soft music,
In the night’s darkness complaining
From the top boughs of the myrtle?

There, where in solitude murmurs the streamlet,
Gliding along its green borders unnoticed,
Soothing man’s turbulent bosom
Gently to peace and to silence?

There, where the rose in its pride and its glory
Blushes, bedew’d with the tears of the morning,
While with the breezes disporting;
Whispering its thoughts to the zephyrs?

There, where the sun first illumines the mountain--
Heights inaccessible--cloud-fashion’d palace--
Where, in the ages departed,
Spirits and gods had their dwellings?

Oft have I heard thy sweet voice gently speaking,
Oft on thy throne of bright clouds have I seen thee,
Stretch’d out my arms to embrace thee--
Ah!--I had seized but a shadow.