Arise, fair Phoebus! and with looks serene Survey the world which late the orb'd Queen Did pave with pearl to please enamour'd swains. Arise! Arise! The Dark is bound in chains,...
O thou to whom, athwart the perish'd days And parted nights long sped, we lift our gaze, Behold! I greet thee with a modern rhyme, Love-lit and reverent as befits the time,...
'Tis a legend of a lover, 'Tis a ballad to be sung, In the gloaming, - under cover, - By a minstrel who is young; By a singer who has passion, and who sways us with his tongue.
O stars that fade in amber skies Because ye dread the light of day, O moon so lonely and so wise, Look down, and love my Love alw'y; Salute the Lady of the May.
He is a seer. He wears the wedding-ring Of Art and Nature; and his voice is bold. He should be quicker than the birds to sing, And fill'd with frenzy like the men of old...