Tuesday, June 25, 2019

With Lamps to Light Their Wayward Footsteps Home

A Summer's Night
by Paul Laurence Dunbar


The night is dewy as a maiden's mouth,
The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes,
Soft as a maiden's breath, the wind that flies
Up from the perfumed bosom of the South.

Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park;
And hither hastening like rakes that roam,
With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home,
The fire-flies come stagg'ring down the dark.

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