Classic Poem

The orange hangs upon the blooming tree,
 The blushing roses load the lifted vine,
 The wandering air, faint-scented of the brine,
Comes stealing softly from the distant sea.

Awake, my love, my love, I sing to thee,
 The stars are dreaming in the far-off sky,
The night's warm wing will shelter thee and me,
 The white-plumed yucca guards the gate hard by.

  Here at thy window, love, I stand,
   And bless thy heart the while;
  Awake, my love, stretch forth thy hand,
   And bless me with thy smile.

The white rose weeps, dear, and alone I sigh,
Awake, awake, love, lest the hour pass by.

II .

The starred magnolia darkens all the lawn,
 The jasmine spreads her tresses on the air,
 The fountain-wet palmetto bids—“beware,”
Her broad leaves glisten with a touch of dawn.

Awake, my love, the morning draweth near,
 The stars are fainting in the whitening sky;
Awake, my love, my heart awaits thee here,
 Each moment robs me as it speedeth by.

  Here by thy window still I stay,
   Content thy slumber thus to spare;
  Enough to see the curtain sway—
   Enough to know that thou art there.

The red rose opens, love—the day is nigh,
Rest thee in peace, dear love—good-by—good-by.

   Ah, thou white rose, dewy sweet,
Weep no more.
   Be thy fragrant lips discreet,
I implore.
   Ah, thou red rose, blushing fair,
Do not tell.
   Hide thou here, my heart's despair.
Love, farewell.