I

Come, the dusk is lit with flowers!

Quietly take this guiding hand:

Little breath to waste is ours

On the road to lovers' land.

Time is in his dungeon-keep!

Ah, not thither, lest he hear,

Starting from his old grey sleep,

Rosy feet upon the stair.

II

Ah, not thither, lest he heed

Ere we reach the rusty door!

Nay, the stairways only lead

Back to his dark world once more:

There's a merrier way we know

Leading to a lovelier night—

See, your casement all a-glow

Diamonding the wonder-light.

III

Fling the flowery lattice wide,

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