Fair Star That on the Shoulder of Yon Hill

Peepest, a little eye of tranquil night, Come forth. Nor sun nor moon there is to kill Thy ray with broader light. Shine, star of eve that art so bright and clear; Shine, little star, and bring my lover here.

My lover! oh, fair word for maid to hear! My lover who was yesterday my friend! Oh, strange we did not know before how near Our stream of life smoothed to its fated end! Shine, star of eve, as Love’s self bright and clear; Shine, little star, and bring my lover here.

He comes! I hear the echo of his feet. He comes! I fear to stay, I cannot go. O Love, that thou art shame-fast, bitter-sweet; Mingled with pain, and conversant with woe! Shine, star of eve, more bright as night draws near; Shine, little star, and bring my lover here.