One in the morning
have not those lovely eyes a thousand times betrayed the dear secret of her heart ? My Lucy , we were formed for each other ; our souls are of intelligence ; every thought , every idea -- from the first moment I beheld her -- I have a thousand things to say , but the tumult of my joy -- she has given me leave to write to her ; what has she not said in that permission ? I can not go to bed ; I will go and walk an hour on the battery ; 't is the loveliest night I ever beheld , even in Canada : the day is scarce brighter . One in the morning . I have had the sweetest walk imaginable : the moon shines with a splendor I never saw before ; a thousand streaming meteors add to her brightness ; I have stood gazing on the lovely planet , and delighting myself with the idea that 't is the same moon that lights my Emily . Good night , my Lucy ! I love you beyond all expression ; I always loved you tenderly , but there is a softness about my heart to-night -- this lovely woman -- I know not what I would say , but till this night I could never be said to live .