Classic Poem

Beneath a linden shady
With me my little lady
Sat resting, hand in hand:
No breeze the leaves stirred wildly,
The sun shone out so mildly
Far o'er the peaceful land.

We sat in silent leisure,
With deep unuttered pleasure
Our hearts beat soft and low;
What more could we be saying,
What questions more be weighing?
No more we sought to know.

No source of rapture failed us,
No vain regrets assailed us,
No transport could we miss;
With glances glances greeting,
And lip with lip oft meeting,
We rendered bliss for bliss.