This Canada of ours and other poems/A Summer Night
For works with similar titles, see A Summer Night.
A SUMMER NIGHT.
NUIT D'ÉTÉ.
From the French of Fréchette, in Pêle Mêle.
We wandered together, Louise, and you knew
That the dreams of my heart were tender and true.
That the dreams of my heart were tender and true.
Silent and calm was the midsummer night,
Our dreams grew more dazzling, as faded the light.
What echoes are filling the solitudes vast,
What sounds are those floating on wings of the blast?
The Spirits of Midnight are chaunting the words,
The wind of the desert is striking the chords.
The meteors of heaven illumine the sky,
And the voice of the pine tree is lost in a sigh.
From nests in the branches, the fond turtledoves
Are warbling to heaven their infinite loves.
Our dreams grew more dazzling, as faded the light.
What echoes are filling the solitudes vast,
What sounds are those floating on wings of the blast?
The Spirits of Midnight are chaunting the words,
The wind of the desert is striking the chords.
The meteors of heaven illumine the sky,
And the voice of the pine tree is lost in a sigh.
From nests in the branches, the fond turtledoves
Are warbling to heaven their infinite loves.
We wandered together, Louise, all the way,
And surely you knew what my heart had to say.
And surely you knew what my heart had to say.
The night air was stirring, it rustled the trees,
Our foreheads were fanned by the scent-laden breeze,
Which sprinkled the dew-drops o'er meadow and lea,
And crept o'er the lakelet, to die in the sea.
No sleep for our eyelids—we roam in delight,
And weave in a garland the hours of the night.
O joys of the moment! too fleeting you seem,
The soul is in cloudland, the mind in a dream.
As the fire of youth kindles, and breaks into flame,
What harmonies waken, and thrill through my frame.
Our foreheads were fanned by the scent-laden breeze,
Which sprinkled the dew-drops o'er meadow and lea,
And crept o'er the lakelet, to die in the sea.
No sleep for our eyelids—we roam in delight,
And weave in a garland the hours of the night.
O joys of the moment! too fleeting you seem,
The soul is in cloudland, the mind in a dream.
As the fire of youth kindles, and breaks into flame,
What harmonies waken, and thrill through my frame.
We wandered together, Louise, all along;
You echoed my heart when it murmured in song.
You echoed my heart when it murmured in song.
Where a cloudlet comes sailing through ether serene
The moon bursts in glory and silvers the scene.
Though voices of lovers are whispering low,
The Angel of Parting commands us to go;
For happiness stays but an hour from its birth,
And pleasures, so perfect, are not for this earth.
The moments are fleeting, we falter and sigh,
Our hearts are both broken, for parting is nigh;
With pledges and kisses we mingle our vows,
When breezes of morning are stirring the boughs.
The moon bursts in glory and silvers the scene.
Though voices of lovers are whispering low,
The Angel of Parting commands us to go;
For happiness stays but an hour from its birth,
And pleasures, so perfect, are not for this earth.
The moments are fleeting, we falter and sigh,
Our hearts are both broken, for parting is nigh;
With pledges and kisses we mingle our vows,
When breezes of morning are stirring the boughs.
You are gone, my Louise; will you ever forget
The sighs at our parting, the joys when we met?
The sighs at our parting, the joys when we met?