Page:Eight Harvard Poets.djvu/52

Night Piece Half-heard murmur swirling beneath The snowy beauty of moonlight. &hellip;

And that other night, When the river rippled with faint spears Of street lights vaguely reflected. Grey The evening, like an opal; low, A grey moon shrouded in sea fog: Air pregnant with spring; rasp of my steps Beside the lapping water; within The dark. Down the worn out years a sob Of broken loves; old pain Of dead farewells; and one face Fading into grey. &hellip;

A silver web has the moon spun, A silver web over all the sky. In her flooding glory, one by one, Like gnats in a web the stars die. 41