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“And all the air a solemn stillness holds.”
SOFT silence of the summer night | |
| Alive with wistful murmurings, | |
| Enfold me in thy quiet might: | |
| Shake o’er my head thy slumb’rous wings, | |
| So cool and light: | 5 |
| Let me forget all earthly things | |
| In sleep to-night! | |
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| Tired roses, passionately sweet, | |
| Are leaning on their cool green leaves, | |
| The mignonette about my feet | 10 |
| A maze of tangled fragrance weaves, | |
| Where dewdrops meet: | |
| Kind sleep the weary world bereaves | |
| Of noise and heat. | |
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| White lilies, pure as falling snow, | 15 |
| And redolent of tenderness, | |
| Are gently swaying to and fro, | |
| Lulled by the breath of evening less | |
| Than by the low | |
| Music of sleepy winds, that bless | 20 |
| The buds that grow. | |
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| The air is like a mother’s hand | |
| Laid softly on a throbbing brow, | |
| And o’er the darksome, dewy land | |
| The peace of heaven is stealing now, | 25 |
| While, hand in hand, | |
| Young angels tell the flowers how | |
| Their lives are planned. | |
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| From yon deep sky the quiet stars | |
| Look down with steadfast eloquence, | 30 |
| And God the prison-door unbars | |
| That held the mute world’s inmost sense | |
| From all the wars | |
| Of day’s loud hurry and turbulence; | |
| And nothing now the silence mars | 35 |
| Of love intense. | |
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