FROM Portugal to Finland now
The full moon blesses all delight
And draws across the yielding brow
Her thrilling European night
And far beyond the Atlantic curve
The simple temperate hearts arise
Along whose harbors breaks the surf
And break the slow December skies
And in the dry dome-scattered east
The yellow wicks reclaim the land
And face to face like beast to beast
The unprophetic lovers stand
And somewhere still the aching past
Hides what no mortal heart may know
That loves all summer and at last
Flees northward through the howling snow.