3.

Say, my dear, O my dear, These are the eves for speaking; There is no wight will work us spite Beneath the sunset's streaking.

Yes, my dear, O my dear, These are the eves for telling; To walk together in starry weather Ere springs o' the moon are welling.

O my dear, yes, my dear, These are the dusks for staying; When twilight dreams of night who seems Among long-purples praying.

"No, my dear!"—"Yes, my dear!" These are the nights to kiss it Times twice-a-twenty: they grow a-plenty On lips that will not miss it.