Littell's Living Age/Volume 143/Issue 1852/Summer Eve

Dimly falls the summer even,
Over forests and green meadows,
Golden moon, through misty shadows,
Beams down from the azure heaven.

By the brookside, with a shrillness,
Chirps the cricket, and a flashing
Of the waters, and a plashing,
Greets the wanderer through the stillness.

Yonder where the waters shimmer,
Bathes alone the elf-queen nightly
Arm and shoulder, shining whitely,
In the moonlight softly glimmer.