MY GARDEN shines the little lamp of the glow-worm, and 

 the living candles of the fireflies gleam in this 

 almost tropical night. It is flooded with a 

 moonlight bright and pensive as a silver ocean. 



"Warm and still is the musky eve. 

 The moon shines bright in the cloudless sky, 

 The crickets sing and the night birds cry." 



The night meaning of the world is being 

 written. 



It is a perfect summer night. There was a 

 rose-and-gold sunset, and there were poppies 

 loose upon the air all the afternoon. May we ex- 

 pect to see fairies on this perfect summer night? 



We will stay outdoors late tonight. It is a 

 time for dreams, now that "the quiet-colored 

 end of evening" has darkened into dusk and 

 stars. Everything is "slumberous, and warm, 

 and restful," just the time for dreaming. The 

 very trees, with the white light streaming over 

 them and the black shade beneath, seem to be 

 dreaming in this midsummer moonlight. 



One of the mysterious things of the garden 

 is the night-blooming flowers. Nearly all 

 plants sleep at night. The acacia folds its 



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