Come out, Sweetheart, its glory see,
Listen, the night is still.
Then speak for a while to me!”
“Ah, but I long to come, my love!
See how I bend and yearn.
But candles are still in those windows set;
At a whisper heads will turn....
Alas, they will part us yet!
“Mother, is’t thou?... Nay, strike me not,
Make me not lame for aye.