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 thou hast loved the night
Whose silence wakes my song?
‘And when thy heart is laid at rest
Beneath the church-yard stone
I shall have time enough to mourn
And thou to be alone’ –