So, in ber blue kimono,
Pale as the sickle moon
Glimmereu thro' soft plum-branches
Blue in the dusk of June,
Stole she, willing and waning, Frightened and unafraid,-
Take me with you, Sawara,
Over the sea," she said.

Small and sadly beseeching,
Under the willow-tree,
Glimmered her face like a foam-flake
Drifting over the sea :
Pale as a drifting blossom,
Lifted her face to his eyes:
Slowly he gathered and heid her
Under the drifting skies.

Poor little face cast backward,
Better to see his own,
Earth and heaven went past them
Drifting: they too, alone
Stood, immortal. He whispered-
"Nothing can part us two!"
Backward her sad little face went
Drifting, and dreamed it true.

"Others are happy," she murmured, 
"Maidens and men I have seen;
You are my king, Sawara,
O,.let me be your queen!
If I am all too lowly,"
Sadly she strove to smile,
"Let me follow your footsteps,
Your slave for a little while."

Surely, he thought, I have painted
Nothing so fair as this
Moonlit almond blossom
Sweet to fold and kiss,
Shell of a faery sea,
Eyes like the holy violets
Brimmed with dew for me.

"Wait for Sawara," he whispered,
"Does not bis whole heart yearn
Now to his moon-bright maiden?
Wait, for he will return
Rich as the wave on the moon's path
Rushing to claim his bride !"
So they plighted their promise,
And the ebbing sea-wave sighed.