Parting
He:
Dear, I must be gone
While night shuts the eyes
Of the household spies;
That song announces dawn.
She:
No, night's bird and love's
Bids all true lovers rest,
While his loud song reproves
The murderous stealih of day.
He:
Daylight alreadu flies
From mountain crest to crest.
She:
That light is from the moon.
He:
That bird...
She:
Let him sing on,
I offer love's play
My dark declivites.
W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)
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