Love
I Leaned out of window, I smelt the white clover,
  Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate;
“Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover—
  Hush, nightingale, hush! O sweet nightingale, wait
        Till I listen and hear
        If a step draweth near,
        For my love he is late!

“The skies in the darkness...