Poem By Dora Sigerson Shorter
Lighted by the lady moon,
Breezes blow and aspens quiver,
By the stream's enchanted tune
Singing to the distant river,
Such an hour for love and song,
Lover's kiss and maiden's laughter.
Who would wish the night less long
Or fail to weep it back hereafter?
Neath the aspen moves a shade,—
Shadow dark! The saints defend her!
Any lass would fly afraid
On the wings that fear would lend her!
Who would brave the shaping gloom,
Hiding form and hidden face,
Phantom arms that would entomb,
Who dares go to that embrace?—