The nightless [sic] tryst
F. Allitsen
Down by the eastern gate
The willow wood's astir;
From dusk to dawn I wait
Through the soundless hours for her,
Till the morning star is shining.
Down by the eastern gate
The willow-thicket pales;
From dusk to dawn I wait
Till the last red lantern fails,
And the morning star is shining.