A Summer's Night


The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,
   The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes,
   Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies
Up from the perfumed bosom of the South.
Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park;
   And hither hastening, like rakes that roam,
   With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home,
The fireflies come staggering down the dark.