IN SUMMER'S MELLOW MIDNIGHT

In summer's mellow midnight
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window
And rosetrees wet with dew 

I sat in silent musing 
The soft wind waved my hair;
It told me Heaven was glorious
And sleeping Earth was fair 

I needed not its breathing
To bring such thoughts to me,
But still it whispered lowly
"How dark the woods will be! 

"The thick leaves in my murmur
Are rustling like a dream,
And all their myriad voices
Instinct with spirit seem."

I said "Go, gentle singer
Thy wooing voice is kind
But do not think its music
Has power to reach my mind 

"Play with the scented flower,
The young tree's supple bough 
And leave my human feelings
In their own course to flow."

The Wanderer would not leave me;
Its kiss grew warmer still 
"O come", it sighed so sweetly,
"I'll win thee 'gainst thy will."

"Have we not been from childhood friends?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as though hast loved the night
Whose silence wakes my song.

"And when thy heart is resting
Beneath the churchyard stone
I shall have time for mourning
And thou for being alone."

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The Beauty of Touch
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