The whiffs of smoke uprising from the flames;
Are like lovers who as strangers seem,
When people mention them and link their names.
I dream that I have woken from a dream.
And strange are ways of love , but stranger still.
Is one who writes of loves with his quill,
Congratulating with a strange smile,
The lover for enfolding in his mind.
The love of someone else without guile,
And left the world stranded far behind,
Then wish and pray for luck, unperturbed,
For newer castles which will lover make,
But tell that all the evenings unreserved,
Standing on the thresh-hold of my door.
