Nocturne: In Anjou.

I dreamed of Sappho on a summer night. Her nightingales were singing in the trees Beside the castled river; and the wind Fell like a woman's fingers on my cheek. And then I slept and dreamed and marked no change; The night went on with me into my dream. This only I remember, that I cried: "O Sappho! ere I leave this paradise, Sing me one song of those lost books of yours For which we poets still go sorrowing; That when I meet my fellows on the earth I may rejoice them more than many pearls;" And she, the sweetly smiling, answered me, As one who dreams, "I have forgotten them."