I love thee, as I love the calm br Of sweet, star-lighted hours! br I love thee, as I love the balm br Of early jes'mine flow'rs. br I love thee, as I love the last br Rich smile of fading day, br Which lingereth, like the look we cast, br On rapture pass'd away. br I love thee as I love the tone br Of some soft-breathing flute br Whose soul is wak'd for me alone, br When all beside is mute. br br I love thee as I love the first br Young violet of the spring; br Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd, br To scented blossoming. br I love thee, as I love the full, br Clear gushings of the song, br Which lonely-sad-and beautiful- br At night-fall floats along, br Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet br The hours of rest and dew; br When melody and moonlight meet br To blend their charm, and hue. br I love thee, as the glad bird loves br The freedom of its wing, br On which delightedly it moves br In wildest wandering. br br I love thee as I love the swell, br And hush, of some low strain, br Which bringeth, by its gentle spell, br The past to life again.