Under the Pines

I. Underneath the pines we wandered;
In the dusk the shadows grew; Softly through the night mist plundered, Not a trace was left of you.

II. But the perfume of the forest, As it slips beneath the dew, Brings the whispers from the silence, Bids the heart to sever too.

III. So let me kneel in dreams of summer, With the night and pines to bless, With the scent of flowers stolen, Where the shadows blend and press.

• Robert Buchanan