IN THE MOONLIGHT

By Evaleen Stein

The moonbeams filter softly through

The leaves upon the linden tree;

And as I sit alone, dear heart,

My spirit yearns for thee!

Yet in some gracious-wise to-night

We do not seem far worlds apart;

I reach my empty arms and dream

I fold thee to my heart.

I close my brimming eyes, and see

The strange, sweet beauty of thy smile,

And fancy that our palms are met

In loving clasp the while.

In soft, clear tones, I seem to hear

The long-hushed voice I loved so well;

— I tremble, lest a breath should break

This moment’ s happy spell!

O brother mine, could it be true

Thine own dear presence hovers near

To comfort with this heavenly peace

Thy little sister here?