Serenade

By Edgar Allan Poe

                              So sweet the hour, so calm the time,
                              I feel it more than half a crime,
                              When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
                              To mar the silence ev'n with lute.
                              At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes
                              An image of Elysium lies:
                              Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
                              Form in the deep another seven:
                              Endmion nodding from above 
                              Sees in the sea a second love.
                              Within the valleys dim and brown,
                              And on the spectral mountain's crown,
                              The wearied light is dying down,
                              And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
                              Are redolent of thee and thine
                              Enthralling love, my Adeline.
                              But list, O list,--so soft and low
                              Thy lover's voive tonight shall flow,
                              That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
                              My words the music of a dream.
                              Thus, while no single sound too rude
                              Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
                              Our thoughts, our souls--O God above!
                              In every deed shall mingle, love.