I dreamt that out of dawn and dark
Your soul and mine were born;
And mine was like a flaming spark,
And yours was like the morn.

To mine your spirit from of old
Had risen with its love,
As yearns the morning to enfold
The orb she glows above.

But always fails that sinking star
As dawn mounts up the sky,
For they were made to come from far,
To greet — and say good-bye.