I made my bed beneath the pines
Where the sea washed the sandy bars;
I heard the music of the winds,
And blest the aureate face of Mars.
All night a lilac splendor throve
Above the heaven's shadowy verge;
And in my heart the voice of love
Kept music with the dreaming surge.
A little maid was at my side —
She slept — I scarcely slept at all;
Until toward the morning-tide
A dream possessed me with its thrall.
She sweetly breathed; around my breast
I felt her warmth like drowsy bliss,
Then came the vision of unrest —
I saw your face and felt your kiss.
I woke and knew with what dismay
She read my secret and surprise;
She only said, “Again‘ tis day!
How red your cheeks, how bright your eyes!”