I knew it the first of the summer, I knew it the same at the end, That you and your love were plighted, But couldnâ€™t you be my friend? Couldnâ€™t we sit in the twilight, Couldnâ€™t we walk on the shore With only a pleasant friendship To bind us, and nothing more?
There was not a word of folly Spoken between us two, Though we lingered oft in the garden Till the roses were wet with dew. We touched on a thousand subjects â€“ The moon and the worlds above, - And our talk was tinctured with science, And everything else, save love.
A wholly Platonic friendship You said I had proven to you Could bind a man and a woman The whole long season through, With never a thought of flirting, Though both were in their youth, What would you have said, my lady, If you had known the truth!
What would you have done, I wonder, Had I gone on my knees to you And told you my passionate story, There in the dusk and the dew? My burning, burdensome story, Hidden and hushed so long â€“ My story of hopeless loving â€“ Say, would you have thought it wrong?
But I fought with my heart and conquered, I hid my wound from sight; You were going away in the morning, And I said a calm goodnight. But now when I sit in the twilight, Or when I walk by the sea That friendship, quite Platonic, Comes surging over me. And a passionate longing fills me For the roses, the dusk, the dew; For the beautiful summer vanished, For the moonlight walks â€“ and you.