I wakened when the moon

A. Woodforde-Finden

I wakened when the moon, with silver feet,

Swept down the purple sky;

Dear Love, 'twas but a dream – yet how complete –

A dream that cannot die.

You are not with me now; the palm-trees chime

A solemn song and low;

But we were lovers in that long-lost time….

Dear heart, it must be so.