I Am Stirred By The Dream Of An Afternoon Of A Perfect Day - Though It Was Not June; The Lilt Of Winds, And The Droning Tune That A Busy City Was Humming. And A Bronze-Brown Head, And Lips Like Wine Leaning Out Through The Window-Vine A-List For Steps That Were Maybe Mine - Eager Steps That Were Coming. I Can See It All, As A Dreamer May - The Tender Smile On Your Lips That Day, And The Glow On Your Cheek As We Rode Away Into The Golden Weather. And A Love-Light Shone In Your Eyes Of Brown - I Swear There Did! - As We Drove Down The Crowded Avenue Out Of The Town, Through Shadowy Lanes, Together: Drove Out Into The Sunset-Skies That Glowed With Wonderful Crimson Dyes; And With Soul And Spirit, And Heart And Eyes, We Silently Drank Their Splendour. But The Golden Glory That Lit The Place Was Not Alone From The Sunset'S Grace - For I Saw In Your Fair, Uplifted Face A Light That Was Wondrously Tender. I Say I Saw It. And Yet To-Day I Ask Myself, In A Cynical Way, Was It Only A Part You Had Learned To Play, To See Me Act The Lover? And I Curse Myself For A Fool. And Yet I Would Willingly Die Without One Regret Could I Bring Back The Day Whose Sun Has Set - And You - And Live It Over.