Morning, Noon and Night

3 0 00

Morning, Noon and Night

When morning shows her first faint flush,

I think of the tender blush

That crept so gently to your cheek

When first my love I dared to speak;

How, in your glance, a dawning ray

Gave promise of love’s perfect day.

When, in the ardent breath of noon,

The roses with passion swoon;

There steals upon me from the air

The scent that lurked within your hair;

I touch your hand, I clasp your form⁠—

Again your lips are close and warm.

When comes the night with beauteous skies,

I think of your tear-dimmed eyes,

Their mute entreaty that I stay,

Although your lips sent me away;

And then falls memory’s bitter blight,

And dark⁠—so dark becomes the night.