Poems | ||
NIGHT IN JUNE
I left my dreary page and sallied forth,Received the fair inscriptions of the night;
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Glittered with silver every cottage pane,
The trees were rich, yet ominous with gloom.
The meadows broad
From ferns and grapes and from the folded flowers
Sent a nocturnal fragrance; harlot flies
Flashed their small fires in air, or held their court
In fairy groves of herds-grass.
Poems | ||