Page:Poems, Household Edition, Emerson, 1904.djvu/383

Rh The moon was making amber of the world,

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.