I

If I were her lover, I’d wade through the clover Over the fields before The gate that leads to her door; Over the meadows, To wait, ’mid the shadows, The shadows that circle her door, For the heart of my heart and more. And there in the clover Close by her, Over and over I’d sigh her: “Your eyes are as brown As the Night’s, looking down On waters that sleep With the moon in their deep” ... If I were her lover to sigh her.