Bend low, O dusky Night, And give my spirit rest, Hold me to your deep breast, And put old cares to flight. Give back the lost delight That once my soul possest, When Love was loveliest.
I hied me off to Arcady- The month it was the month of May, And all along the pleasant way, The morning birds were mad with glee, And all the flowers sprang up to see, As I went on to Arcady.
This Life is a fleeting breath, And whither and how shall I go, When I wander away with Death By a path that I do not know?
Bend low, O dusky Night, And give my spirit rest, Hold me to your deep breast, And put old cares to flight. Give back the lost delight That once my soul possest, When Love was loveliest.