Fly not yet
(Tune: Planxty Kelly)

Fly not yet

Fly not yet, 'tis just the hour,When pleasure, like the midnight flowerThat scorns the eye of vulgar light,Begins to bloom for sons of night,And maids who love the moon.'Twas but to bless these hours of shadeThat beauty and the moon were made;'Tis then their soft attractions glowingSet the tides and goblets flowing.Oh! stay, -- Oh! stay, --Joy so seldom weaves a chainLike this to-night, that oh, 'tis painTo break its links so soon.

Fly not yet, the fount that play'dIn times of old through Ammon's shade,Though icy cold by day it ran,Yet still, like souls of mirth, beganTo burn when night was near.And thus, should woman's heart and looksAt noon be cold as winter brooks,Nor kindle till the night, returning,Brings their genial hour for burning.Oh! stay, -- Oh! stay, --When did morning ever break,And find such beaming eyes awakeAs those that sparkle here?