The moon caught on a fragile edge Upon the starry dress's hem of gauze, In heaven's shimmering, luminous applause, It stirred the tender talk of hearts...
From the airy mist of night It wove an intricate veil with care, The nightingale's soul-deep trill so rare It trusted to me, ancient and bright...
And in a languid, perfect idyll It soothed me with its trembling song, Half-opening beauty vast and strong— Perfection's flawless, sacred riddle...
And my tender soul breathed in The fragrance of eternal design, Dissolved through every cell of mine In the boundless space where worlds begin...
