I lay me on the ground
Under the dark,
And Heaven's purple arc
Drew its deep curtains round
My weary head and shut away the sound.
The golden star-lights crept
Over the hill ...
I lay so very still
I heard them as they stepped ...
"Sleep!" breathed the Earth. Upon her breast I slept.
V
I'll stay one night beneath your roof,
And longer I will stay for no man,
And as for love, I'm loving-proof—
Turn by your eyes, White Woman.
The Wander-fever's in my blood,
I have no time for simple loving—
The hot Earth is in roving mood,
And I too must be roving.
_If_ I should love you ... soon, ah, soon
I'd break your heart to go a-roaming,
And chasing shadows of the moon
Think never once of homing.
Why will you wring my breast with tears?
Tears will not quench the Wander-fever.
Why will you fill my soul with fears
When I will go for ever?
I whom the Earth's green passions move
Have put away all passions human ...
I will not love!... I _dare_ not love ...
Turn by your eyes, White Woman.