WHY do you shudder and stare,
Grown cold in a moment and white?
The moon’s at her full, and the air
Is flooded with wonderful light.
There is never a sound or a sign
Or a shadow of harm in the trees,
And the little leaves ripple and shine
At the kiss and caress of the breeze.
You tremble and shudder, my love,
As a hare at a hound’s flashing fangs—
As a bird, when in azure above
A poising hawk motionless hangs.
Fear not, and the terror shall yield
To peace and to sweetness at length;
My love is a guard and a shield,
My arms are a fortress and strength.
‘I fear not the hawk in the sky,
Or the hound, though his fangs flash anear;
A dread beyond death makes me sigh—
’Tis the end of our love that I fear.’