Love fell in by the window where Moonlight wrestled; The long, the lonely bed was empty Of all but care. She is gone who I would have here, Intimately castled; Lonely in bed alone I lie, Wishing she was here. Her echoed softness still enforces This drift of dreams; Moonshine moulting on the floor Undoes the lover. Love cannot escape its crisis By means or seems; Lonely in bed alone I lie, Wishing she was here.