Although sleep calls to me with a sweet voice,
I cannot answer.
To close my eyes, and weep soft tears with Her
in form of dreams
would need a readiness to awaken
I cannot master.
Tease me not, my Love,
by your soft caresses
in shape of pillows and thread.
I know the land you call me to:
is it not for mortals to tread?
My eyes close gently now
on world and wondering both;
perhaps these words, from a pensive heart,
may find you, and keep you,
and bind you to me in troth.
