Beneath The Moon

Give me thy hand, Beloved! Here where still The night wind hovers 'neath the pallid moon Give me this fleeting moment; all too soon The listless day will break upon the hill; This last sweet night is mine. The tremulous thrill Upon thy lips is all the precious boon I begged of Heaven, the garish sun of noon Is theirs--the rest--mine is this moment's will. Our love could never be the love of day. I have not claimed the welcome of thy lips; No touch save fluttering hand, and for the pay I gave my minstrelsy of sea and sky. Once more thine eyes! Now sun-stained finger tips, Send through the hush of dawn a glad good-bye.