16
POEMS.
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
When the summer moon in her midnight madness
Breaks through the clouds that would veil the night,
And the earth and air are full filled of gladness,
And the heart of man of a vague delight;
When the wild sea-breeze to the land comes sobbing,
And the wild sea-waves clap their hands and sing,
Then wake, mad hearts, to your passionate throbbing,
For this is the hour when Love is king.
Breaks through the clouds that would veil the night,
And the earth and air are full filled of gladness,
And the heart of man of a vague delight;
When the wild sea-breeze to the land comes sobbing,
And the wild sea-waves clap their hands and sing,
Then wake, mad hearts, to your passionate throbbing,
For this is the hour when Love is king.
Sing, too, O ye stars, in the arch of heaven—
The silence of night doth madden the brain,
And the crash of waves is too low and too even,
Like some sad sweet chord struck again and again.
The silence of night doth madden the brain,
And the crash of waves is too low and too even,
Like some sad sweet chord struck again and again.
