My garden lies slumb'ring
In sunny calm of noon,
The fountains sing faintly
their cool and soothing croon.
Soft breezes are kissing
Each flower's perfum'd lips,
While from a lily's chalice
A butterfly drowsily sips.

A flood of fragrance
Rises around me,
And drowns my senses,
Lost in dreams.
Breath of the rose,
Breath of the lilac
Mingle, and mount
On the vibrant air;

Yet, in the balmy current,
Born on the wings of Zephyr,
A scent, more witching
Than all the rest,
Wakes tender memories
In my breast:
'Tis Narcissus!

Dear, snow-petal'd blossom,
With heart of blood and gold,
Your perfume calls up visions
Of raptures untold.
I seem to dream
Of melodies wafting by,
That sob and throb,
Resembling a trembling sigh,
I hear a clear, sweet note afloat,
Re-echoing love-songs of old!