Where art thou Love! with thine eyes wild gleam,
And thy hair which floats in the sun's bright beam,
Like a golden banner of triumph, spread
O'er the hosts of a conqueror homeward led ;-
Thy step like the bound of the light gazelle;
And thy voice more sweet than the soft lute's swell.
My beautiful one! come forth, and bless
Thy hunter who droops with weariness;
I have toil'd unresting a far, far way,
The spoils of the chase at thy feet to lay
Ah!-I hear from afar thy silver tone;-
I clasp thee now, my belov'd!-MY OWN !