St. Valentine's Day

The South is a dream of flowers
   With a jewel for sky and sea,
Rose-crowns for the dancing hours,
   Gold fruits upon every tree;
But cold from the North The wind blows forth
   That blows my love to me.
The stars in the South are gold
   Like lamps between sky and sea;
The flowers that the forests hold.
   Like stars between tree and tree;
But little and white Is the pale moon's light
   That lights my love to me.
In the South the orange grove
   Makes dusk by the dusky sea,
White palaces wrought for love
   Gleam white between tree and tree,
But under bare boughs Is the little house
   Warm-lit for my love and me.