Muse and Mint

The murky night hung dank and dark

The Summer shower after;

A distant dog’s staccato bark

Disturbed the strollers’ laughter;

The mournful whip-poor-will’s lament,

The frogs’ and crickets’ chorus

A weird, sepulchral feeling lent

To meadow-lot and morass.

A thousand insect-lanterns flashed

Their phosphorescent signals

Of living sparks that dot-and-dashed

Out swift electric riddles;

For scarcely was the eye upon

A single tiny glowlight

When wink, it flitted and was gone

Like prankish imp on show-night!

And while one guessed its next surprise

Afar from where it dwindled

A myriad others to the eyes

All intercrossed and kindled

Until the ghostly gloom became

Illumined with manœuvres

As though of fairies fanning flame

Within a park of lovers.

And thus does fancy people night

With fugitive creations

Of phantom-folk whose fitful light

Yet feeds our inspirations

And teaches us there is no dark

But fellowships the presence

Of every soul that sheds its spark

Of humble incandescence.