THE night is dewy as a maiden's mouth, The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes, Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park; And hither hastening, like rakes that roam, With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CAGED SKYLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS AN HYMN OF HEAVENLY BEAUTY by EDMUND SPENSER THE PILGRIM by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD INVULNERABLE by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A SUPERSTITION REVISITED by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE BROKEN PITCHER by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |