Page:National Lyrics.pdf/146



Leave me not yet—thro' rosy skies from far, But now the song-birds to their nests return; The quivering image of the first pale star On the dim lake scarce yet begins to burn: Leave me not yet!

Not yet!—oh hark! low tones from hidden streams, Piercing the shivery leaves, ev'n now arise; Their voices mingle not with day light-dreams, They are of vesper's hymns and harmonies: Leave me not yet!