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IN SUMMER NIGHTS.
When the wild wind rises, And mighty shadows stalk,—The lovely ghostly lady That haunts the garden walk.
The chains that bind the poplars Swing and clank and twist;When the moon comes breaking Through that bank of mist,You will see the filmy fetter That chains the filmy wrist.
When that sudden moonshine, Weird and white, shall burst,The shrouding gloom will kindle With splendor interspersed.Ah, how fair the face is!— How fair and how accurst!
What eternal longing, What pitiful disdain,In the great eyes' glory Flashing back againThose swords of the archangels Crossed in eternal pain!
