In the long dreamy day
When golden shadows fell
O’er wave and vine, and moons had sped,
Yet there, while that brief season fled,
He’d kept Love’s vigil well.
He comes, that warrior-chief,
Once more, in the pale moon’s wane,
When the dews weep o’er each leaf,
To that haunted spot again—
But morn with its glorious beauty woke