Meet me to-night in the path which lies 
By the side of the woodland hollow ; 
The moon will have oped her silver eyes, 
And tell thee which path to follow. 
Then tripping along to thy footstep’s Sound, 
Thy lip to thy heart will he humming; 
If thy glance for A moment turn around, 
’T will assure thee, love, I’m coming. 
Oh! do not fear, not a tone will break, 
On earth or in air, that can chide thee : 
If a lovely rose perchance to awake, 
’T will droop its bloom beside thee. 
Come meet me at the evening’s hour 
When summer winds are still. 
Within the niemory-haunted bower. 
Beside the gushing rill. 
