UNFELT unheard, unseen,
 I've left my little queen,
Her languid arms in silver slumber lying:
 Ah! through their nestling touch,
 Who---who could tell how much
There is for madness---cruel, or complying?

 Those faery lids how sleek!
 Those lips how moist!---they speak,
In ripest quiet, shadows of sweet sounds:
 Into my fancy's ear
 Melting a burden dear,
How "Love doth know no fulness, nor no bounds."

 True!---tender monitors!
 I bend unto your laws:
This sweetest day for dalliance was born!
 So, without more ado,
 I'll feel my heaven anew,
For all the blushing of the hasty morn.

.