Unfelt unheard, unseen,
      I've left my little queen,
Her languid arms in silver slumber lying:
      Ah! through their nestling touch,
      Who---who could tell how much
There is for madness---cruel, or complying?

      Those faery lids how sleek!
      Those lips how moist!---they speak,
In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds:
      Into my fancy's ear
      Melting a burden dear,
How "Love doth know no fulness, nor no bounds."

      True!---tender monitors!
      I bend unto your laws:
This sweetest day for dalliance was born!
      So, without more ado,
      I'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty morn.