Lily, refulgent in petals of white, Fair ballerina, enchanting the night, Kissed by the moonlight, you slowly unfold Beauty, in bodice of velvet and gold.
Motionless . . . quivering . . . held in a trance . . . Dew-spangled, twinkling like stars in your dance, Raptured, you sway to the nightingale’s tune, Turning your face to your lover, the moon.
Steinman pictures a water lily that opens at night and turns it into a dancer on a stage lit by the moon. The speaker addresses the flower directly, almost the way you'd speak to a performer you admire, calling it a "fair ballerina" and praising its "bodice of velvet and gold," which probably describes the white petals around a golden center.
The second stanza slows everything down. The lily is "motionless" and "quivering," caught in a trance, while drops of dew glitter on it like stars. It sways to a nightingale's song and tilts toward the moon, named here as its lover. That image suits the way flowers seem to follow light.
The speaker doesn't argue or worry about anything. The feeling is pure delight, and the mood is hushed, romantic, and a little dreamy. Rhyming couplets give the lines a gentle, music-box rhythm that matches the dance.