Her gentle fingers turn the handle
The creaking door gives way to her
I find my heart in ardent stir
How slowly burns the molten candle!
O, how she whispers in the night!—
No Muse such words would ever render,
What beauty stands before my sight?--
She’s but a vision of my madness
The madness that I can’t subside
She comes to sympathize my sadness
And I await her with delight
I lay there listening with gladness.
She says that all will be alright,
And that my pain will not abide.
And I am overfilled with life
Which has erased the grief and strife
Of past commotion. At first light,
With joy I calmly rise from bed,
The world awakes before my sight
I look toward my day ahead.
I yearn to live, then realize
That I’m alone. Until the night,
I recollect her shining eyes
And melancholy tears I shed.