The Place of Breaking Light

The Place of Breaking Light

Is red upon the sky;

Through the forest pines,

Beloved, comes a sigh.

Is it sigh or winds

The dreaming cedars wake?

Doth thy signal gleam

Or wing-flash on the lake?

Ah, if my calling flute

Implore thee soft and clear,

In thy forest lodge,

Beloved, wouldst thou hear?

Should my signal flash

Across the hills to thee,

Beloved, wouldst thou come

To keep a tryst with me?