The moon shines full, the elm-trees stand
Like sentinels, and shadows spill,
And up that quiet, unearthly land
The sheepbells with their tinkling fill
A silence reaching to the sky;
The rounded farm-stacks that were gold
Now moonlit and unreal lie;
And all is magical and cold.

But here, beneath my window, one
Magnolia flower blooms, alight,
Moon-glinted, lovely, and alone,
As fastened in the hair of night,
And from it to my nostrils creep
Such spicy odours as might move
To raptured waking all who sleep,
The very moon herself, to love.

So may night breathe in beauty, when
My little flame blows out, and I
Back to the fold return, for then
It will be dream-like, and goodbye
Will not be harder than it must;
For life will leave me with a kiss
Upon my brow of moonlit dust —
If night be beautiful like this!
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