Thou oft in dreams hast seen us stand
Before the altar hand in hand,
Thyself the bride, the bridegroom I.
Oft on thy lips, when none were watching,
I've hung, unnumbered kisses snatching,
In hours of waking ecstasy.

The purest rapture that we cherished,
The bliss of hours so golden, perished
Even with the hour that saw it rise.
What reck that mine have been such blisses?
Fleeting as dreams are fondest kisses,
And like a kiss all pleasure dies.