Rosmé

Far in the darkness a nightingale is singing, 
Singing his love and sorrow to the moon; 
Lost in the branches, the night wind, winging, 
Wakens the leaves to a low sweet tune. 

Oft have I heard them, nights unending, 
Heard them and loved them and gone my way; 
Now with their passion a new note is blending, 
Born of their beauty but more than they. 

Love calls through the summer night, 
Love sings with a strange delight, 
Calls our young hearts to find his way, 
Let him lead us where’er he may. 

Dear heart, shall he call in vain
When ne’er he may ask again?
Ah! Love, wherever you lead us,
We follow the road of dreams tonight. 

Swift to the dawn the enchanted hours are flying, 
Bringing the time of waking all too soon,
Songs will be hushed, and the lovelight, dying, 
Pass with the stars and the waning noon. 

Come as it may with tears or laughter,
Bring as it will either rose or rue,
Why should we care for what may come after? 
Still for a while, only dreams are true. 

Love calls through the summer night, 
Love sings with a strange delight, 
Calls our young hearts to find his way, 
Let him lead us where’er he may. 

Dear heart, shall he call in vain,
When ne’er he may ask again?
Ah! Love, together wherever you lead us,
We take the wonderful road, the roadway of dreams. 
Follow, come follow, love of my heart, tonight.