IN SUMMER NIGHTS.
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Around her all the roses Shake all their velvet leaves;The summer night's vast sweetness Bends down to her, and cleaves,To hide with veils of darkness The darker thing she grieves.
What is it such wan passion Forever whispereth?Why echoes all our laughter Such sobbing underbreath?Why trails across our pleasure That darker thing than death?
Come in, come in: the moon sets, And horror arms his hosts;Ah, what a storm comes heaving Far up these lonely coasts!Oh, hasten, love and lover, Lest ye, too, turn to ghosts!
