Thine eyes still shined for me, though far
I lonely robed the land or sea:
As I behold yon evening star,
Which yet beholds not me.

This morn I climbed the misty hill,
And roamed the pastures through;
How danced thy form before my path
A midst the deep-eyed dew!

When the redbird spread his sable wing,
And showed his ride of flame;
When the rosebud ripened to the rose,
In both I read thy name.