Page:The Midsummer Night.djvu/40

 Pregnant with thunder, gathering far below

In solemn blackness—when thy bosom heaves

With a tumultuous bliss, and thy cheeks glow,

I will be near, and cool thy fever-flush,

And send a shivering transport to thy soul!

Morning awakes,

To thickets and brakes

Away we hie;

Before the day's beam,

The wan moon's gleam,

And the night—stars fly.

In deep green dells,

In the lily's bells,

We crouch all day.

But again at night,

When the stars shine bright,

We shall frisk and play.