I love the night when the moon streams bright
On flowers that drink the dew—
When cascades shout as the stars peep out,
From boundless fields of blue;
But dearer far than moon or star,
Or flowers of gaudy hue,
Or murmuring trills of mountain-rills,
I love, I love, love—you!
I love to stray at the close of the day,
Through groves of forest-trees,
When gushing notes from song-birds' throats
Are vocal in the breeze.
I love the night—the glorious night—
When hearts beat warm and true;
But far above the night, I love,
I love, I love, love—you!
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