Over the waters but a single bough Stretches in silhouette against the moon, The little dark waves haunt the dim lagoon And splash against the languid-moving prow. I should have left thee when the afternoon Surrendered to pursuing night, for now Too perilously dear and fair art thou, And love too soon invoked shall die too soon. I fear the very floods of happiness That swell the narrow chambers of my heart, Knowing indeed that with our first caress, Contentment and my soul forever part; O night of love and beauty, all the years Shall pay for thy brief ecstasy with tears.