The Hour of Love

When the fair one and the dear one--
Her lover by her side--
Strays or sits as fancy flits,
Where yellow streamlets glide;
Gleams illuming--flowers perfuming
Where'er her footsteps rove;
Time beguiling with her smiling,
Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one,
Amid a moonlight scene,
Where grove and glade, and light and shade,
Are all around serene;
Heaves the soft sigh of ecstasy,
While coos the turtle-dove,
And in soft strains appeals--complains,
Oh! that 's the hour of love.

Should the fair one and the dear one
The sigh of pity lend
For human woe, that presses low
A stranger, or a friend,
Tears descending, sweetly blending,
As down her cheeks they rove;
Beauty's charms in pity's arms--
Oh! that 's the hour of love.

When the fair one and the dear one
Appears in morning dreams,
In flowing vest by fancy drest,
And all the angel beams;
The heavenly mien, and look serene,
Confess her from above;
While rising sighs and dewy eyes
Say, that 's the hour of love!