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.