159. Love on the Mountain

MY LOVE comes down from the mountain

Through the mists of dawn;

I look, and the star of the morning

From the sky is gone.

My love comes down form the mountain,

At dawn, dewy-sweet;

Did you step from the star to the mountain,

O little white feet?

O whence came your twining tresses

And your shining eyes,

But out of the gold of the morning

And the blue of the skies?

The misty morning is burning

In the sun’s red fire,

And the heart in my breast is burning

And lost in desire.

I follow you into the valley

But no word can I say;

To the East or the West I will follow

Till the dusk of my day.