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A Summer Night

by Elizabeth Drew Stoddard, 1895

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.

Published in Poems
Tags: nature, summer

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