And lovers drown for dear Love’s sake.
Then clasping hands, and touching lips,
They dream beneath great sombre trees,
Whence large and solemn-falling drips
Are shaken by the restless breeze.
“Oh, nothing’s half so sweet, my dear,
As kisses in the quiet night:
Lean close, and let me hold you near,
Put out your arms, and clasp me tight!
“Why, should we wait, so cold and wise?