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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A SONG FOR TWO IN THE NIGHT, by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE Poet's Biography First Line: How soft the night wind strokes the meadow grasses Last Line: Thou'rt rapt; creation's soul is rapt with thee! Alternate Author Name(s): Moricke, Eduard Friedrich | |||
She. How soft the night wind strokes the meadow grasses And, breathing music, through the woodland passes! Now that the upstart day is dumb, One hears from the still earth a whispering throng Of forces animate, with murmured song Joining the zephyrs' well-attunèd hum. He. I catch the tone from wondrous voices brimming, Which sensuous on the warm wind drifts to me, While, streaked with misty light uncertainly, The very heavens in the glow are swimming. She. The air like woven fabric seems to wave, Then more transparent and more lustrous groweth; Meantime a muted melody outgoeth From happy fairies in their purple cave. To sphere-wrought harmony Sing they, and busily The thread upon their silver spindles floweth. He. Oh lovely night! how effortless and free O'er samite black—though green by day—thou movest! And to the whirring music that thou lovest Thy foot advances imperceptibly. Thus hour by hour thy step doth measure— In trancèd self-forgetful pleasure Thou'rt rapt; creation's soul is rapt with thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AN ERROR CHANCED by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE EARLY AWAY by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE MY RIVER by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE PRAYER by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE SECLUSION by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE THE FORSAKEN MAIDEN by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE THE NEW LOVE by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE THE OLD WEATHERCOCK: AN IDYLL by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE THE SOLDIER'S BETROTHED by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE THINK OF IT, MY SOUL by EDUARD FRIEDRICH MORIKE |
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