Good-Bye, Pierrette
Good-bye, Pierrette. The new moon waits Like some shy maiden at the gates Of rose and pearl, to watch us stand This little moment, hand in hand-- Nor one red rose its watch abates. The low wind through your garden prates Of one this twilight desolates. Ah, was it this your roses planned? Good-bye, Pierrette. Oh, merriest of little mates, No sadder lover hesitates Beneath this moon in any land; Nor any roses, watchful, bland, Look on a sadder jest of Fate's. Good-bye, Pierrette.
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"Good-bye, Pierrette. The new moon waits..."
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