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Thomas Moore - At the Mid Hour of Night
Work rating: Medium

At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly 
To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye; 
   And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air, 
   To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there, 
And tell me our love is remember`d, even in the sky. 

Then I sing the wild song `twas once such pleasure to hear! 
When our voices commingling breathed, like one, on the ear; 
   And, as Echo far off through the vale my said orison rolls, 
   I think, oh my love! `tis thy voice from the Kingdom of Souls,
Faintly answering still the notes that once were so dear.
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