Summer Night
C. Gibbs
Moonshine calling faint light from seadeeps unknown,
Burns bright in the blossoming spray of the foam.
Soft winds, myrtle-scented, roam from clear stars
Far-flung in the dome of exquisite blue.
There stirs in the moon-silvered spears of the firs faint sea murmur.
Soft-breathing, the song of the water, weaving spells of sweet silence,
Fills the blue space 'twixt the sea and the hills.