University of Virginia Library

Come to where the waters play
Underneath the moon,
See the honeysuckle spray
Beckons softly, answer “yea,”
You will be obedient, eh,
You will join me soon?
Come to where the sands are light
And the breezes cool,
O, my sweet one, shining white
At the window, we will write
Names upon the beach to-night,
We will play at “school!”

161

Come to where I wait for you,
Where I wait and sing,
Breathe upon me as the dew
Gently fans the grasses through,
Strength exhausted to renew,
Health of heaven to bring.
 

I had, when I wrote this, the exquisite love-scene in poor Robertson's drama of “School” in my mind.