Of meetings by the newly-risen moon,
Of passionate silence, ’midst the brown birds’ tune,
Of wild tears wept within the noontide shade,
Of wild vows spoken that of old were made
For other ears, when, amidst other flowers,
He wandered through the love-begetting hours....
At last
Into an open space she passed,
Nigh filled with a wide, shallow lake;
Amidmost which the fowl did take