The Indian Serenade

[Verse 1]
I arise from dreams of thee in the first sweet sleep of night
When the winds are breathing low, and the stars are shining bright
I arise from dreams of thee, and a spirit in my feet
Hath led me, who knows how?
To thy chamber window, sweet!
The wandering airs, they faint on the dark, the silent stream
The Champak odors fail like sweet thoughts in a dream
The nightingale’s complaint, it dies upon her heart
As I must on thine, oh beloved as thou art
Oh, lift me from the grass
I die, I faint!
I fail
Let thy love in kisses rain on my lips and eyelids pale
My cheek is cold and white, alas
My heart beats cold and fast!
Oh, press it to thine own again, where it will break at last