|
I stepped into a fairy ring Upon Midsummer Night. I crooked my thumbs and held my breath That I might wish aright. The wind blew cool about my hair, Beyond the dunes the sea Beat soft as some far elfin drum, And birds chirped fitfully. The curly-fronded tips of fern Close-pressed about my feet; With weedy salt and rose and bay, The air smelt keen and sweet. Across the water lights shone clear; The lighthouse blinked its eye, While in the dimness of the grass The firefly hosts went by. I thought and thought, but nothing seemed So good a thing to wish As that some other night might be As beautiful as this. |