There are sobs when death is the cause of parting; But life has its partings again and again. ...From the poisonous damps of the southern river You had sent me not one sign from your exile -- Till you came to me last night in a dream, Because I am always thinking of you. I wondered if it were really you, Venturing so long a journey. You came to me through the green of a forest, You disappeared by a shadowy fortress.... Yet out of the midmost mesh of your snare, How could you lift your wings and use them? ...I woke, and the low moon's glimmer on a rafter Seemed to be your face, still floating in the air. ...There were waters to cross, they were wild and tossing; If you fell, there were dragons and rivermonsters.