. . . moonlightMysterious lover, you are a riddle read by moonlight,
and my yearning for you a gaunt goblin fed by moonlight.
For us no garish, glittering, sudden, sunlit romance;
Swear not by constant gods: love is ephemeral.
And will we traverse different forests, you and I,
On a pile of leaves beside this stream I make my bed,
Thus the incompleat logician strives to calculate