I feel the breath of the summer night,
            Aromatic fire:
The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir
            With tender desire.

The white moths flutter about the lamp,
            Enamoured with light;
And a thousand creates softly sing
            A song to the night!

But I am alone, and how can I sing
            Praises to thee?
Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul
            That waiteth for me.