The gray trunk feels a touch of light,

While, where dead leaves are deep,

A gleam of sunshine golden white

Lies like a soul asleep.

And just beyond dank-rooted ferns,

Where darkening hemlocks sigh

And leaves are dim, the bare road burns

Beneath a dazzling sky.

{5}

{5}

Moonlight

WHEN I see the ghost of night

W

Stealing through my window-pane,

Silken sleep and silver light

Struggle for my soul in vain;

Silken sleep all balmily

Breathes upon my lids oppressed,

Till I sudden start to see

Ghostly fingers on my breast.

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