The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar/Evening

EVENING

The moon begins her stately ride Across the summer sky; The happy wavelets lash the shore,— The tide is rising high.

Beneath some friendly blade of grass The lazy beetle cowers; The coffers of the air are filled With offerings from the flowers.

And slowly buzzing o'er my head A swallow wings her flight; I hear the weary plowman sing As falls the restful night.