The Student's Serenade
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- I have slept upon my couch,
- But my spirit did not rest,
- For the labours of the day
- Yet my weary soul opprest;
- And before my dreaming eyes
- Still the learned volumes lay,
- And I could not close their leaves,
- And I could not turn away.
- But I oped my eyes at last,
- And I heard a muffled sound;
- 'Twas the night-breeze, come to say
- That the snow was on the ground.
- Then I knew that there was rest
- On the mountain's bosom free;
- So I left my fevered couch,
- And I flew to waken thee!
- I have flown to waken thee--
- For, if thou wilt not arise,
- Then my soul can drink no peace
- From these holy moonlight skies.
- And this waste of virgin snow
- To my sight will not be fair,
- Unless thou wilt smiling come,
- Love, to wander with me there.
- Then, awake! Maria, wake!
- For, if thou couldst only know
- How the quiet moonlight sleeps
- On this wilderness of snow,
- And the groves of ancient trees,
- In their snowy garb arrayed,
- Till they stretch into the gloom
- Of the distant valley's shade;
- I know thou wouldst rejoice
- To inhale this bracing air;
- Thou wouldst break thy sweetest sleep
- To behold a scene so fair.
- O'er these wintry wilds, ALONE,
- Thou wouldst joy to wander free;
- And it will not please thee less,
- Though that bliss be shared with me.
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