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FORESHADOWINGS
Wind of the winter night,
  Under the starry skies
Somewhere my lady bright,
    Slumbering lies.
Wrapped in calm maiden dreams,
Where the pale moonlight streams,
    Softly she sleeps.

I do not know her face,
  Pure as the lonely star
That in yon darkling space
    Shineth afar;
Never with soft command
Touched I her willing hand,
    Kissed I her lips.

I have not heard her voice,
  I do not know her name;
Yet doth my heart rejoice,
    Owning her claim;
Yet am I true to her;
All that is due to her
    Sacred I keep.

Never a thought of me
  Troubles her soft repose;
Courant of mine may be
    Lily nor rose.