Across a lonely hardest land, Where west winds chanted in the wheat an old, old vesper wondrous sweet.
Oh, Twilight and i were went as lightly as on wings through many a scented chamber fair, among the pines and balsams, where I could have dreamed of darling things, and ever as we went I knew, the peeping fairy folk went too.
I could have lingered now and then by gates of moonrise that might lead,
To some forgotten, spiceried mead, or in some mossy, cloistered glen,
Where silence, very still and deep, seemed fallen in enchanted sleep.
But Twilight ever led me on, as lovers walk, until we came to hills where sunset's shaken flame had paled to ashes dead and wan;
And there, with footsteps stolen light, She left me imagine where i can find the lure of night.
