I long to see thee on this moonlit night,
To feel the joy of my true love and thine.
The night before, 'tis said, thou hast no right
To see thy bride; a glance dth cross some line.
Some superstitions I upphold: things blue
Things old and new and borrowed. All of such
Uphold the myths my great-grandmother knew-
But separation punisheth too much.
I wish that I could break this ancient lore;
Tradition keepeth joy this night from me.
Tomorrow's joy must make my heart to soar;
'Till then it must suffice alone to be.
Tonight I shall my lonely goodnight send;
Tomorow, Love, this loneliness shall end.
©
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