I pitch my lonely caravan at night
E. Coates
I pitch my lonely caravan at night,
Where flows the mountain stream below the town.
The little countryside is hushed, and stars
From heav'n's blue arch above look kindly down.
Only the sleeping world about me lies,
Meadows amist and hedges wet with dew,
Only the golden glow as daylight dies,
And dreams of you.