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.