The Old Dream Comes Again To Me

The old dream comes again to me:

With May-night stars above,

We two sat under the linden-tree And swore eternal love.   Again and again we plighted troth,

We chattered, and laughed, and kissed;

To make me well remember my oath You gave me a bite on the wrist.   O darling with the eyes serene,

And with the teeth so white!

The vows were proper to the scene,

Superfluous was the bite.