On Silver Nights Poem by Virna Sheard

On silver nights I cannot sleep;-
The ancient moon from far above,
Bids me arise, and run and keep
A rendezvous with one I love.

And in my heart a little song
Swings to and fro its clear refrain,
While down the stairs I haste along
As though the past were mine again.

Then is my spirit so beguiled
By all the night's white witchery,
That I am kin to all things wild,
And part of all things that are free!-

Then he comes back,-who long ago
Left these green paths his steps had trod;
Yes-he comes back,-I know!-I know!-
Light-footed from the fields of God.

So through the garden and the lane,
And where the lovely grass is deep,
We two go walking once again,-
On silver nights, that banish sleep.