At night, when all is still around, How sweet to hear the distant sound Of footstep, coming soft and light! What pleasure in the anxious beat With which the bosom flies to meet That foot that comes so soft at night! And then, at night, how sweet to say, 'Tis late, my love! and chide delay, Though still the western clouds are bright; Oh! happy, too, the silent press, The eloquence of mute caress, With those we love exchanged at night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH MY LITTLE CAPE COD MAIDEN by KATHERINE FINNIGAN ANDERSON A NEW PILGRIMAGE: 18 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE COLLIER LADDIE by ROBERT BURNS TO A SWALLOW BUILDING UNDER THE EAVES [AT CRAIGENPUTTOCK] by JANE WELSH CARLYLE THE CANTERBURY TALES: THE MAN OF LAW'S TALE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER THE LEGEND OF GOOD WOMEN: 4. INTRODUCTION by GEOFFREY CHAUCER |