Classic Poem

Haste hither, my love, the river
Is tinged with the pale moonlight,
The leaves of the dark trees quiver,
And throb in the parting night.
Why linger, my love, why linger?
Swift fly the hours away,
And soon will Aurora's finger
Point to the dawning day.

The Spirit of Morn doth hover
Above the horizon dark,
'T is time that both Maid and Lover
Were safe in their waiting bark;
Then hasten to meet me, dearest,
Why does my true-love stay?
Oh! haste, and your loved-one nearest,
We'll leave ere the dawn of day.

As the Spring-time awaits the Summer,
With longing I wait for thee;
All graceful the gay new comer
Trips smilingly o'er the lea;
As Summer the Spring embraces,
So chide I thy long delay;
Now we'll leave ere Aurora chases
The mists from the waking day.