My heart that burns like the noon-tide, Has waited the long day through, And still in the gloaming I long for your coming, As flowers faint for the dew. Oh! come in the cool of the ev'ning, Like a soft wind out of the west; Oh! come like the swallow that flies o'er the fallow, Homeward at night to the nest. The nightingale in the garden Cries "Look, look, look, truant love; The pale stars glimmer, the moonbeams shimmer, And glide through the leaves above." Ah me! but the midnight passes, I linger and know not why; Though you come never, I hope for ever, For a lover must hope or die.
- by Harold Boulton, Sir (1859 - 1935) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
Researcher for this text: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2017-08-06
Line count: 16
Word count: 112