At night, when all is still around, How sweet to hear the distant sound Of footstep, coming soft and light! What pleasure in the anxious beat With which the bosom flies to meet That foot that comes so soft at night! And then, at night, how sweet to say, 'Tis late, my love! and chide delay, Though still the western clouds are bright; Oh! happy, too, the silent press, The eloquence of mute caress, With those we love exchanged at night! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WRITTEN IN NORTHAMPTON COUNTY ASYLUM by JOHN CLARE BUILDING THE LIBRARY, TOKYO UNIVERSITY; NIGHT SCENE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 34. REMINDING HER OF A PROMISE (4) by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT TIME'S PENDULUM by GRACE O. BOLSTAD THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: AUTUMN by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |