Stephen, wake up! There's some one at the gate. Quick, to the window ... Oh, you'll be too late! I hear the front door opening quietly. Did you forget, last night, to turn the key?...
In each black tile a mimic fire's aglow, And in the hearthlight old mahogany, Ripe with stored sunshine that in Mexico Poured like gold wine into the living tree Summer on summer through a century,...
All night under the moon Plovers are flying Over the dreaming meadows of silvery light, Over the meadows of June, Flying and crying - Wandering voices of love in the hush of the night. ...