by Frank Dempster Sherman
Love, throw thy lattice open to the night,
And shame the moon, that doth so sadly shine
Upon the world, with that glad face of thine!
Look down upon me with thine eyes more bright
Than those of angels from yon dizzy height
Of heaven peering out; and be it mine
To feel uplifted to thee, like a vine
Led up the trellis ladder by the light!
Then, while the earth in purple shadows deep
Lies hushed, and, dreaming, slumber all the birds,
And not a whisper wakes the leaves above, --
Listen, and thou shalt hear the lutestrings weep
In music soft, mourning to win thy words
To make complete their melody of love!
Source:Lyrics For A Lute
Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin, and Company