Beside the crystal fountain,
Within the dark'ning grove,
The anxious moments counting
Bewail'd a trembling Dove :
"Why keeps he not his hour ?"
She said or seem'd to say, -
"My love ! what envious pow'r
Has cross'd thy hapless way ?

The early star, benighted,
Has left the murky sky ;
And through the air, affrighted,
The woodland tenants fly ;
While I am left thus lonely,
They seek their mutual home :
Alas ! such sorrows only
To me allotted come !"

What threatful sound affrights her ?
Her flutt'ring heart is high, -
Ah, now ! - what voice delights her ?
"Tis he ! - my love is nigh !"
Come, now, for measures cheerful
My fable I resign :
I was that Dove so fearful,
And that dear partner mine !