This Summer Night
To M. W.
This summer night the skies are clear,
And voiceless is the atmosphere,
The leaves hang motionless as lead,
The flowers are rigid as the dead,
There broods o'er earth a nameless fear.
Like fallen planets now appear
The distant lights, that seem so near,
Through far off streets of Plymouth spread,
This summer night.
No human voice sounds forth to cheer,
The only stir that greets the ear
Is a faint murmur overhead,
As if God stepped with stealthy tread
Because the hour of doom is near,
This summer night.
~~
Percy Heminway (1866-1916)
from The Happy Wanderer, and other poems, 1896
[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]
Percy Hemingway biography
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