C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

The Summer Night

WHEN o’er the woods that sleep below,

The moonbeam pours her gentle light,

And odors of the lindens flow

On the cool airs of night,—

Thoughts overshade me of the tomb,

Where my beloved rest. I see

In the deep forest naught but gloom;

No blossom breathes to me.

Such nights, ye dead, with you I passed!

How cool and odorous streamed the air!

The moonbeam then, so gently cast,

Made Nature’s self more fair!