At Night Poem by Albert Laighton

Come forth, belovéd, to the night!
What though no stars are in the skies;
Enough for me the loving light
That lives within your gentle eyes.

We'll sit together in the dark,
Beside the meadows cool and damp,
And watch the fireflies by the spark
That glimmers from each tiny lamp.

What happy, happy lives they pass!
What hours amid the tasselled corn!
What pleasures in the dewy grass,
That vanish with the light of morn!

They haunt this fragrant summer air,
While every thing around us seems
To rest beneath the wings of prayer,
And breathe the atmosphere of dreams.

Come forth! peace falls upon my breast,
Like dews descending to the sod;
As if the arms of Nature pressed
Me closer to the heart of God.