Low lying mists along the seascape dim,
The summer night wrapp'd in a lang'rous swoon,
The restful murmur of the wavelets' hymn
And overhead, the moon.

The distant tinkle of a downland bell
Floats drowsily across the trembling air,
To find an echo in the dreamy spell
That lingers there.

Ah, sea and sky and mist and moon above
Melt to the rapture of a long-drawn sigh,
And with your arms about me, oh my love,
Heav'n itself seems nigh!