A Summer Night

by Elizabeth Stoddard

I feel the breath of the summer night,     Aromatic fire: The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir     With tender desire. The white moths flutter about the lamp,     Enamoured with light; And a thousand creatures softly sing     A song to the night! But I am alone, and how can I sing     Praises to thee? Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul     That waiteth for me.

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