Classic Poem

(F ROM K LOPSTOCK )

I N the night-time, when the splendour of the moon
Sheds a glory o'er the woods and the perfumes
Of the linden-trees are wafted
On the cool, fragrant air,

Then do thoughts of those I loved who now are dead
Overshadow me awhile, and the twilight
Ever deepens, and I cannot
Smell the scent of the leaves.

Long ago, ye Dead, I shared it all with you,
All the perfumes and the coolness of twilight,
And fair nature seemed e'en fairer
'Neath the beams of the moon.