NOCTURNE: IN ANJOU.

I dreamed of Sappho on a summer night.

Her nightingales were singing in the trees

Beside the castled river; and the wind

Fell like a woman's fingers on my cheek.

And then I slept and dreamed and marked no change;

The night went on with me into my dream.

This only I remember, that I cried:

“O Sappho! ere I leave this paradise,

Sing me one song of those lost books of yours

For which we poets still go sorrowing;

That when I meet my fellows on the earth

I may rejoice them more than many pearls;”

And she, the sweetly smiling, answered me,

As one who dreams, “I have forgotten them.”