Page:In memoriam (IA inmemoriam00tennrich).pdf/158



night we linger'd on the lawn, For underfoot the herb was dry; And genial warmth; and o'er the sky The silvery haze of summer drawn;

And calm that let the tapers burn Unwavering: not a cricket chirr'd: The brook alone far-off was heard And on the board the fluttering urn:

And bats went round in fragrant skies, And wheel'd or lit the filmy shapes That haunt the dusk, with ermine capes And woolly breasts and beaded eyes;

While now we sang old songs that peal'd From knoll to knoll, where, couch'd at ease, The white kine glimmer'd and the trees Laid their dark arms about the field.