By rustic gate, your beauty stays,
A fleeting hymn the evening plays.
The hush grows sweeter, calm and wide,
When you are standing by its side.

The ivy winds, the roses climb,
Yet cannot reach your tender rhyme.
One fleeting smile, the dusk obeys,
And crowns the night with softer rays.

You linger where the silence glows,
A gentle hush the whole world knows.
Your gaze, a flame no dark can hide,
Burns like the tide against the tide.