‘Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush, my dear!’

1
Hush, hush! tread softly! hush, hush my dear!
All the house is asleep, but we know very well
That the jealous, the jealous old bald-pate may hear.
Tho' you've padded his night-cap - O sweet Isabel!
Tho' your feet are more light than a Fairy's feet, (5)
Who dances on bubbles where brooklets meet -
Hush, hush! soft tiptoe! hush, hush my dear!
For less than a nothing the jealous can hear.

2
No leaf doth tremble, no ripple is there
On the river - all's still, and the night's sleepy eye (10)
Closes up, and forgets all its Lethean care,
Charm'd to death by the drone of the humming May-fly;
And the Moon, whether prudish or complaisant,
Hath fled to her bower, well knowing I want
No light in the dusk, no torch in the gloom, (15)
But my Isabel's eyes, and her lips pulp'd with bloom.

3
Lift the latch! ah gently! ah tenderly - sweet!
We are dead if that latchet gives one little chink!
Well done - now those lips, and a flowery seat --
The old man may sleep, and the planets may wink; (20)
The shut rose shall dream of our loves, and awake
Full blown, and such warmth for the morning's take;
The stock-dove shall hatch her soft brace and shall coo,
While I kiss to the melody, aching all through! 

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