We Held The Book Together Timidly, Whose Antique Music In An Alien Tongue Once Rose Among The Dew-Drenched Vines That Hung Beneath A High Castilian Balcony. I Felt The Lute Strings' Ancient Ecstasy, And While He Read, My Love-Filled Heart Was Stung, And Throbbed, As Where An Ardent Bird Has Clung The Branches Tremble On A Blossomed Tree. Oh Lady For Whose Sake The Song Was Made, Laid Long Ago In Some Still Cypress Shade, Divided From The Man Who Longed For Thee, Here In A Land Whose Name He Never Heard, His Song Brought Love As April Brings The Bird, And Not A Breath Divides My Love From Me!