Book 1 — OLD SONG
Reading edition
My window is darkness, The sighs of the night die in silence; The lamp on my table Burns gravely, the walls are withdrawn; And beneath, in your darkness, You are sleeping and dreaming forgetful, But I think of you smiling, For I'm wakeful and now it is only an hour to the dawn.
When the first throb of light comes I shall rise and go out to the garden, And walk the lawn's verdure Before the wet gossamer goes; And when you come down, sweet, All singing and light in the morning, Delight will break ambush With your garden's most fragrant and softest and reddest red rose.