A Serenade to a Maiden
		
		Look out upon the stars, my love,
		and shame them with thine eyes
		On which, than on the stars above
		there hang more destinies.
		Night's beauty is the harmony
		of blending shades and light;
		then lady, up, -- look out, and be
		a sister to the night!

		Sleep not! thine image wakes for aye
		within my watching breast:
		Sleep not! from her soft sleep should fly
		who robs all hearts of rest.
		Nay, lady from thy slumbers break,
		and make this darkness gay
		With looks whose brightness well might make
		of darker nights, a day