A Night In June

"What so rare as a day in June?"
O poet, hast thou never known
A night in rose-voluptuous June?
High over all a broad, full moon,
Grey broken clouds that sink and swoon
In floods of light,
Which down the sky's vast steepness pour,
Niagara in all save roar --
Sound lost in sight!


Now serenades the midnight moon,
The beetle's drum, the frog's bassoon,
And mingled with these rises shrill
The piccolo of whip-poor-will
Played in the beech just on yon hill,
Now moon-gold crowned;
Then tinkling notes of light guitar,
With voices softened from afar,
Sight lost in sound!