GARDENER.
Longed for as the moon that hides
In the obstinate clouds of a rainy night
Is the sound of the watchman’s drum,
To roll the darkness from my heart.
CHORUS.
I beat the drum. The days pass and the hours.
It was yesterday, and it is to-day.
GARDENER.
But she for whom I wait
CHORUS.
Comes not even in dream. At dawn and dusk
GARDENER.