Calm in the twilight of lofty boughs
Pierce we our love with silence as we drowse;
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Melt we our souls, hearts, senses in this shrine,
Vague languor of arbutus and pine!
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Half-close your eyes, your arms upon your breast;
Banish for ever every interest!
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The cradling breeze shall woo us, soft and sweet,
Ruffling the waves of velvet at your feet
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When solemn night of swart oaks shall prevail.
Voice our despair, musical nightingale!