The Return Home, 85

Glimm’ring lies the summer even
Over wood and verdant meadows,
And the gold moon, fragrance shedding,
Gleameth from the azure heaven.

Crickets at the brook with shrillness
Chirp; there’s motion in the water,
And the wand’rer hears a splashing,
And a breathing in the stillness.

Yonder at the lone stream sparkling,
See, the beauteous elf is bathing;
Arm and neck, so white and lovely,
Glisten in the moonbeams darkling.