Song

The Light of spring
On the emerald earth,
A man, a maid,
And a mood of mirth,
A foolish jest,
That a smile amends—
It took no more
To make us friends.

An evening breeze,
The year in bloom,
Lips quickly met
In the garden’s gloom;
The trees about us,
The stars above—
It took no more
To teach us love.

Frost in the air—
The air like wine—
Go you your way,
And I ’ll go mine.
Lightly we part
Who lightly met—
What more is needed,
When both forget?