POEMS.
41
TO THE NIGHT-BREEZE.
Breeze of the night, across my pillow straying—
Breeze of the night, of summer dews begot,
Salt from the sea-shore, where the waves are playing,
Slow, to and fro, my window curtains swaying—
Cool my flushed cheeks, by recent sleep left hot.
Breeze of the night, of summer dews begot,
Salt from the sea-shore, where the waves are playing,
Slow, to and fro, my window curtains swaying—
Cool my flushed cheeks, by recent sleep left hot.
A. D.
