Fall on the faint wind of the south,
And all our war hath disappeared,—
Sweet, I am thirsty for thy mouth!
Sweetheart, see where flames the Day,
Love the Dawn illumes our way.
Here it is Dawn, but bye-and-bye
When Evening draws his sable cloak,
Shall Love be lost? Alone shall I
Pursue the quest where barren lie
My conquests low in smoke?